Innocence Faded
by anonymus31
Summary: AU Immediately post Epilogue. Harry is happily married to Ginny, but not for long, as secrets from the past come back to bite her in the behind. M for language and some violence, just to be safe.
1. Overture

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is a billionaire. I rarely have two pennies to rub together. You can't get blood from a turnip. Innocence faded Lyrics belong to Dream Theater.

A/N: The next two chapters were written and posted before this one. I can't remember if I had originally planned on writing any of this out when I started, but I got tired of people telling me that I had a major plothole. So if anything in the next two chapters looks like I was trying to hint at certain things mentioned in this chapter (For instance the father of Jonas and Jenna) the reason is that I originally didn't want to put this at the beginning, but it was too much for a flashback, and I like it this way anyway. Also I know that I'm fudging on the meaning of Imzadi, if anyone actually notices that.

NOW SLASH FREE!

So enjoy the

**Overture**

He fell back into the pillow. He was tired, but not nearly as stressed out as before. She was right, as usual. He looked over at her, saw the satisfied smile on her face.

"How are you feeling?" He asked. He had been worried that he had hurt her.

"Just fine, Imzadi," came her reply, in a dreamy voice worthy of Luna Lovegood.

He was used to her using words he did not know, but this one didn't even sound real. "Come again?"

"What?" she replied, sounding a little more alert.

"That word, em-sah-dee or whatever it was, that you called me. What does it mean?" He asked, knowing he would get an answer that was longer and more complicated than it needed to be. He wasn't disappointed.

"Oh, that. Im-ZA-dee. It's from Star Trek. It's Betazoid for 'first.' Riker and Troi sometimes called each other that," she replied sleepily. _Of course, Star Trek. She only mentions it once every bloody week._ He suddenly had a chilling thought. _What if _he_ finds out? What are we going to do?_ He got up and turned on the WWN receiver, tuning it to a station that played some muggle tunes. On came a song that just made him more depressed as he listened to the lyrics.

_Animation  
Breathes a cloudless mind  
Fascination  
Leaves the doubting blind  
Until the circle breaks and wisdom lies ahead  
The faithful live awake  
The rest remain misled_

_Some will transcend spinning years  
One as if time disappears_

_Innocence faded  
The mirror falls behind you  
Trinity jaded  
I break down walls to find you_

_Callow and vain  
Fixed like a fossil, shrouding pain  
Passionless stage  
Distant like brothers  
Wearing apathetic displays  
Sharing flesh like envy in cages  
Condescending  
Not intending to end_

_Some will transcend spinning years  
One as if time disappears_

_Innocence faded  
The mirror falls behind you  
Trinity jaded  
I break down walls to find you_

_Beginnings get complicated  
The farther we progress  
Opinions are calculated  
Immune to openness_

_Beyond the circles edge  
Were driven by her blessings  
Forever hesitating  
Caught beneath the wheel_

_Innocence faded  
The mirror falls behind you  
Cynically jaded  
The child will crawl to find you._

Hermione sleepily muttered, "That's our song now, you know." Harry almost didn't catch the joking tone in her voice. He shut the receiver off after the next song, a classy ditty about large formal parties, and when to bed-his own bed.

The next day, they discussed what had happened the previous night and decided that it had to remain their little secret. Neither one knew how much pain the other one felt when they agreed that it was a mistake that must never be repeated.

* * *

Harry couldn't believe it. Voldemort was dead, stone dead. 'E was pinin' for the fjords 'e was. 'E's passed on! This Dark Lord is no more! He has ceased to be! 'E's expired and gone to meet 'is maker! 'E's a stiff! Bereft of life, 'e rests in peace! 'E's pushing up the daisies! 'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory! 'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisible! HE IS AN EX-DARK LORD! _I really need to stop watching Monty Python reruns._

Still, something was bothering him. Whatever it was, it had been eating at Harry since his friends had disappeared during the battle. He hadn't had time to notice it at the time. Now that he could notice it he didn't think he would like the answer if he did manage to identify it.

He was right.

No sooner did he manage to identify it than he wished he hadn't. He was in love with Hermione. That he had already known, though he tried to ignore it. He knew that she would never love him. That knowledge had been like a knife through the heart, but he had begun to accept the fact. No, what got to him was that she loved Ron. That realization only served to twist the knife, to rub in his face the fact that the first girl-no, _woman_-he'd ever truly _loved_ would never love him back. He felt that if he were to tell her how he felt, maybe he would feel better. A more rational part of him knew that it would only make it worse if she didn't return the feelings, and would likely ruin their friendship. He fervently ignored that part.

Harry made his decision. He sought out his female best friend, the one person he'd told everything to. Well, almost everything. He was going to fix that as soon as he found her.

Harry found her in the wreckage of what had been the Hogwarts library less than twelve hours previously, sitting on what he assumed had once been a bookcase. He walked up and sat beside her. "I knew I'd find you here," he said, sadly. Hermione gave a start but said nothing. The wreckage of the library, where he had spent so much time with her in his six years at Hogwarts, only seemed to emphasize the state of the relationship that could never be. He almost lost his nerve right then. He soldiered on, however. "So, what's your excuse for not being with the Weasleys right now?" Harry asked conversationally, if sadly. "Mine was looking for you."

Hermione looked up, acknowledging his presence for the first time since he had entered the eerily silent library. "Hmm? Oh, I just felt like an outsider, and I needed to get away to let them grieve in peace. I also had some soul searching to do," she said, tears in her eyes.

"What about?" Harry asked, almost dreading the response.

"I...I don't want to say. You'd think I was nuts," she said, pointedly avoiding his gaze.

Harry snorted. "At this point in time, that would be like the pot calling the kettle black," he looked at Hermione, deadly serious all of a sudden, then took a deep breath and looked away. He took another deep breath, mustering his courage. "Do you remember that...that 'break' you called it?" He asked. Her face showed fear; her eyes betrayed a secret hope as she nodded. Harry did not notice this as he was staring at the floor. He continued, not waiting for confirmation. "Do you remember the conversation afterwards, where we agreed that it was a mistake never to be repeated?" she nodded again, her features becoming more fearful, her eyes betraying a growing hope. Harry still stared at the floor, and continued, still not waiting for confirmation. "I lied, Hermione," He looked into her eyes. "I didn't think it was a mistake. I love you Hermione. I didn't realize it until after we made that agreement. It tore my heart in two to say that it was a mistake. Every time I reassured Ron that nothing had happened, that nothing could ever happen between us, it hurt more than words can describe," he paused, taking a shuddering breath, barely suppressing the sob that so desperately wanted to escape, "and then, seeing you fawning over Ron in the middle of battle, I almost didn't have the strength to go on. Only by reminding myself that my life was just a small part of what was at stake, that everyone's survival was hinged on my own survival, was I able to continue. I fought for you. I fought on just so that you could be happy one day." He finally succumbed to tears. He stood up and began to walk blindly away.

Hermione was stunned. Harry loved her. He had fought on because he wanted to see her happy. Needless to say, she was touched. Noticing his hasty retreat, she called out to him, "Harry," he came to a halt and turned to face her. "Harry, my imzadi, I've got a confession to make. I...I lied as well. That break was the most magical hour of my life, pardon the pun," she chuckled tearfully. "My only regret was that I wasn't your first. I guess I agreed to forget about it because I was afraid that I hadn't measured up to Ginny, to Cho, to the Patil twins, to that muggle Julie. I love you, I've loved you ever since you rushed into the girls toilet, my knight in shining armor, with his faithful sidekick. Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, if you will. I never realized it, however, until that fiasco with Cho on Valentine's Day fifth year. I held a brief hope that you felt the same way about me, until a week later you got back with Cho. My hope was revived after you broke up with Cho again a month later. When you still did not show any interest, I pushed it aside, even going for the next best thing, the faithful sidekick. I was even able to convince myself I loved him. Until that night. After that, I realized I had forced all those feelings I had for Ron, to the point of threatening our friendship. When I was finally able to forgive him for leaving us, I started to overcompensate for my lack of true feelings, as I was afraid that if I told him how I truly felt about him he would abandon us again," she put her head in her hands, then looked up at Harry. "What will he do when he finds out?" she sobbed, throwing her arms around him.

Harry took her face in his hands and brushed the tears away with his thumb. "We'll cross that bridge when we reach it. As for your insecurities, Ginny and I never got past first base. Cho was only once; she cried the whole time, and called me Cedric at the end-that was why we broke up the second time. Padma and Parvati, on the other hand were mind-blowing, but sex with them was just _fucking_, bereft of all emotion, except for the, er, _more than sisterly_ love between the girls," Hermione looked shocked, but said nothing. "Julie, while she was my first, the sensation was, as the Americans say, like waving a hot dog in a hallway. A very large hallway at that," He paused as he collected his thoughts for what he was about to say next. "With you, it was beautiful. It wasn't mind-blowing like with the Patils," She looked offended, and Harry rushed to explain what he meant, "but it was so much better. It was, well, it was like so many cheesy cliches I could use here but won't to spare you and me the embarrassment. The point is I love you. I want to be with you for the rest of my life," he got on one knee. "I don't have a ring, because I didn't expect you to reciprocate my feelings, but will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Hermione looked on the verge of tears. For moment Harry thought that he had said the wrong thing, and was about to apologize-and run for cover, if necessary-until, "Yes Harry, my knight in shining armor, my imzadi, I will," and with that she kissed him. For the next thirty minutes they barely separated long enough to come up for air.

* * *

That night, reluctant as they were to tell the Weasleys the news, they knew that it would be best to tell them sooner rather than later. While Hermione took Ron off to explain it to him in private, Harry was thrown under the bus, as he had to explain it to the rest of the surviving Weasley clan. "I-" he croaked. Seven faces turned in his direction.

Clearing his throat, he began again, "I have an announcement to make. While I would prefer to have Hermione here with me, explaining it to all nine of you," six sets of red-rimmed eyes started shining at this, a seventh turning suspicious, "Hermione had to explain it to Ron separately. Recently I realized how much I love Hermione," Ginny's eyes flashed with anger, and a nearby oil lamp shattered, showering several nearby paintings and tapestries with liquid flames and pelting several bystanders with shards of glass. Harry gulped audibly, then continued, "I had, until this morning, pushed those feelings aside, believing that she did not feel the same. I thought she was in love with Ron, and I was determined not to tell her how I felt. Last night, during the battle, I realized just how much it hurt to know she would never feel the same way about me. I didn't realize this until this morning, and when I did, I set out to tell her how I felt, to get it off my chest. When I told her, she told me that she loved me, too.

"To make a long story slightly less long, I proposed to her and she accepted," Harry spared a glance over at Ginny and was glad that it was impossible to directly kill anyone with accidental magic.

Aside from Ginny-and, Harry could safely assume, Ron-the Weasleys were happy for him. While Mrs. Weasley would have preferred that Harry were to marry Ginny, she was still glad he found a nice girl to settle down with.

George pulled Harry aside and said, "Listen, mate, I'm really happy for you. You know we all consider you a part of the family, an honorary Weasley. Well, except for Ginny, of course. The rest of us are really happy for you. Don't worry about Ginny and Ron, though. They'll come around eventually." He paused here, his puffy, bloodshot and red-rimmed eyes tearing up even more than they already had been. "But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to ask you to deliver the eulogy at Fred's funeral."

"Me? Why not a family member? Why not Lee?" Harry asked, surprised.

"I just told you, you are like family to us. I've already discussed this with everyone. Even Lee agrees. Plus, you were there when he...when he..." George trailed off, unable to complete the thought as tears once again spilled down his face.

"If it means that much to you; _if you're sure_," George, unable to say anything, nodded sincerely, "I'd be honored. You two were always there for me, you helped me even when you didn't know who I was. I better stop or I won't have anything to say at the funeral. Stay strong, George, Fred wouldn't want you to be joining him so soon," Harry said, giving George a brotherly embrace.

* * *

The funeral was not large. It consisted of the surviving Weasley and Prewitt family members, the surviving Order members, the surviving DA members, the twins' employees, and any friends not covered in the above groups. Okay, so it was a large funeral, almost as big as Dumbledore's funeral. Harry was nervous. The last time he had spoken to a group anywhere near this large, nearly half of them had died-including the man he was eulogizing.

Hermione squeezed his hand. "Are you ready?" she asked. He nodded and stood, going to stand by the coffin, which was adorned with a toilet seat, presumably from Hogwarts.

He looked at the audience. Most of the faces were sad, except for Ron who looked at Harry with a cold fury in his one open eye. His other was swollen shut, colored in sickening shades of purple and yellow where Hermione had hit him when he reacted badly to the news. All, even Ron, had tears running down their faces, though Ron's were probably not all from grief.

Harry cleared his throat. "I only knew Fred for seven years. Most of you knew him for far longer. I know all of you have fond memories of our fallen comrade, but I can only tell you what I remember about him. I first met him on 1 September 1991. I was having trouble getting my trunk onto the train. Fred and George helped me, and they didn't even know who I was. In my first quidditch game, when I lost control of my broom, they were ready to catch me should I fall," he paused here.

"I'm sorry, all of my memories of Fred always include George. I could never tell them apart until a few days before my seventeenth birthday," He smiled, and a few of the twin's friends chuckled weakly.

"When Christmas came around my first year, and I received a sweater from Mrs. Weasley, just like them, they seemed to accept me as a brother," Harry paused here, to regain his composure. As soon as he was sure he could continue without breaking down, he said, "That really meant a lot to me," despite his best efforts his voice cracked with greif. "It was the first time in my life I felt like I had a family," Harry went on to describe many of his fondest memories of Fred, all of which also included George. The way they mocked the theory that Harry was the heir of Slytherin, their beards after the failed attempt at crossing the age line, how they were reluctant to take the money he offered them to start their joke shop, their departure from Hogwarts in the middle of his fifth year, the bravery they showed in retrieving him from the Dursleys less than a year previously. He told of how he had died laughing, happy that his family was whole again.

"Until the end, he was a teammate, a partner-in-crime, a business associate, a brother-in-arms, and I'll miss him," with that he went and sat down. After the funeral most of the Weasleys-except for Ginny and Ron-came over to thank him. He offered his most sincere condolences.

* * *

24 August 1998

In one week Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Defeater of Voldemort, would step through the barrier to Platform 9 3/4 as the latest Head Boy of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was looking forward to that day, but right now all he could think of was how happy he was that _this_ day had finally arrived. Today he was going to marry the woman of his dreams. Sure, he was nervous. He would have preferred to have Ron as his best man, but Ron had turned him down, refusing to even attend. Instead, he had Neville as his best man with George, Charlie and Bill filling the role of groomsmen. Hermione's maid of honor was Luna, as Ginny, like Ron, had refused to even attend, and the other bridesmaids were Parvati, Padma, and Fleur.

Harry was a little uncomfortable about having two of his former girlfriends as part of the wedding party, especially those two, but Hermione had insisted, he relented, and they accepted. Fleur was there as a way of thanking her for all she had done for them in the spring.

It had been a real challenge getting all the wizards to wear suits instead of robes, as it was a muggle ceremony, but they had succeeded. The witches' dress robes didn't look that much different from any formal dress, so that wasn't much of a problem.

The music changed to a traditional wedding march. Hermione's parents had insisted on it, though Hermione had wanted "Canon in D." Harry was secretly glad to have gone with the cliche, since even he recognized it, clueless as he was about marriage traditions. He looked up to see Hermione, a vision in white making her way down the aisle. He'd never seen a vision of beauty such as the one before him. The closest he could think of was the way she looked at the Yule Ball in fourth year, and even that was a very distant second. He was so mesmerized by her beauty that he barely paid attention to the service. Neville had to jab him in the back when it came time to read the vows he had written.

"Hermione, my love, you are my better half, and that's not just a cliche, it's the truth. You have never abandoned me since we've been friends, even if I've abandoned you from time to time. You've saved my sorry behind more times than I care to admit. Without you, I'd never have made it this far. I don't know what I've done to deserve you, but I vow that I will never change. I will always love you," Harry said from the bottom of his heart.

Hermione's eyes were shining with tears of joy as she said, "Harry, my knight in shining armor, my one true love, I never will abandon you. You've saved my life on at least three separate occasions. I owe you more than I can ever repay you, and all I can give you is my love and devotion. I promise that no matter what, I will always love you."

Harry would remember little else from the ceremony and reception, except that their first dance was to the song "Innocence Faded," by Dream Theater, which was her favorite band. He wasn't sure why that specific song was chosen, except that it was a good reason, which Hermione had explained to him.

* * *

The next two and a half years would be the happiest of his life, with Hermione giving birth to a set of twins, which they name Jonas Henry and Jennifer Haley Potter, a little over two years after the wedding. Harry slowly drifted apart from Hermione after the birth of the twins, and just over a year after the twins were born, Harry divorced Hermione and shortly after that he married Ginny.

* * *

A/N: Another chapter down. (That does seem weird to put at the end of a prologue, doesn't it?) I don't believe that I could have written this without the next two having been written. I hope to make the story eight or nine chapters, including Overture and the epilogue, which will not be called 'Epilogue.' I do wonder if anyone will recognize the pattern of the chapter names. Probably not, as the musical reference is fairly obscure. "Innocence Faded" is the song whose lyrics appear earlier in this chapter, and a few times in later chapters. I was listening to "Score XOX: 20th Anniversary World Tour: Live with the Octavarium Orchestra" by Dream Theater (whew, that's a long album title. Good album, though, particularly the Three-disc version) when I started writing the story, and that's where the title came from and I particularly like how the lyrics are so versatile, or at least the chorus.

Oh yeah

Questions? Comments? Plotholes? Just put them in a review and I'll try to respond to them.

A helpful user that goes by the username cosmopolitan made some suggestions, and I've decided to take them into account, so I would like to thank them for the suggestions, which inspired me to improve it where I could


	2. About To Crash

Disclaimer: Its _**FAN**_fiction. If you don't know what that means, look it up. "About to Crash" Lyrics belong to Dream Theater.

A/N: The idea came from a half-waking dream in the half-sleep twilight period this morning. For those that don't know, this was the first chapter that I wrote, with Overture written primarily to fill in backstory.

**Chapter 1: About to Crash**

_Even though she gets so high  
__He knows that she can't fly  
__And when she falls out of the sky  
He'll be standing by_

_-Dream Theater "About to Crash"_

After the train disappeared, Harry walked over to Hermione. "How are Jonas and Jenna?" he asked. They were twins, going into their seventh year at Hogwarts. While Jonas, with his curly brown hair, resembled his mother more than anyone else, Jenna's shiny red hair gave her a stronger resemblance to her paternal grandmother.

"They're fine. They made Head Boy and Head Girl," Hermione replied. They were interrupted when Ron and Ginny walked up, each trailing their non-Hogwarts-bound child.

"I'm gonna take Ginny and Lily back to the Burrow when I drop the car off," Ron said, referring to the old 2009 Audi S6 that he and Hermione shared with the older Weasleys. "Look mate," he whispered to Harry as he led him away from the women and children, "I want talk to you away from prying eyes and ears. Do you think that you could meet me at the Three Broomsticks tomorrow night after dinner?"

Harry, intrigued, replied, "What's this about?"

Ron looked to see where Hermione and Ginny were at, and then moved closer. "It's about Ginny. Ginny and Hermione."

Harry's curiosity was piqued. "I'll get a private room."

"That's what I was gonna suggest," Ron said, turning to collect his sister, his sone and his niece.

Harry then apparated to Hogsmeade with Hermione, the new Charms Professor. Harry was the new Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts. He had taken the job because of a leg injury that would never fully heal to the way it was before. He wanted to do something meaningful and worthwhile, and being a desk jockey just didn't seem as rewarding as teaching.

* * *

After the feast, Harry sought out two specific individuals.

"Dad!" shouted Jennifer Haley Potter as she threw her arms around him. Her brother, Jonas Henry Potter merely shook Harry's hand firmly. Jenna had his eyes, while Jonas had hazel eyes that resembled a blend of Harry's and Hermione's.

"Now that I teach here it's no longer permissible to call me Dad. It's Professor Potter to you." He said sternly, before cracking a smile. "So, you two are following in the footsteps of your famous parents, becoming Head Boy and Head Girl, just like Hermione and I, though, of course, we were a year delayed in our return for seventh year," he paused,_ Odd, that's the first time in years I've been able to talk about my time with Hermione in a positive light. It still hurts to think about it, though_. "First time a brother-sister duo held those positions in the history of Hogwarts. You'll be in _Hogwarts, a History_, for sure," He said with a smile as they entered his office.

As soon as the door closed, Jonas said, "You know, Dad, you sound just like mom when you say that." Harry noticed they seemed a little sad. Even after sixteen years-they barely knew him when he was married to Hermione-they seemed sad whenever Harry mentioned their mother. Hermione had told him that they got in similar moods when she mentioned him.

Harry noticed this and made his usual attempt to get them to stop moping over the past. "How many times do I have to tell you that it just didn't work out between the two of us?"

Jenna seemed like she wanted to say something but Jonas's elbow to the ribs stopped her.

They talked for almost an hour about what had been happening in their lives; for instance Jonas had begun studying to become an animagus and Jenna already had several offers for tryouts with professional quidditch teams-she was a seeker, just like her father-until Jonas yawned and said, "I think it's time for us to be getting to bed. It's been good speaking with you, Dad."

Harry bid them both good night, and went to his quarters. As he fell asleep, he wondered if his life could get any better. _Probably not_, was the response from somewhere within.

* * *

Harry's first class the next day was the seventh year D.A.D.A. class. When he got to Jonas and Jenna on the roll sheet, he said, "I expect more from you two in my class than I do from anyone else. Not because of who your father is," several people smirked at this remark, "but because of who your mother is."

After finishing roll, he said, "Now, in the past six years, you've learned a variety of skills and spells in this class. This year, I'm going to teach you how to use put those skills to practical use. I'll be teaching you how to duel. I know that most of you know the basics, but that's not enough. The basics won't save you in a fight against dark wizards. I barely knew anything beyond the basics back when I..." he paused, lost in a painful memory. It wasn't the battle he was remembering, though. He was remembering after the battle. How he felt, what happened...

He shook himself out of his reverie. "When I defeated Voldemort," He was pleased when only half of the class reacted noticeably, "and I'm surprised I'm alive to tell you about it."

He spent the rest of the class period working on dueling. Most of them were pretty lousy, a few were fairly good, and Jonas and Jenna were brilliant. Obviously their mother had been giving them extra lessons.

* * *

That night at the Three Broomsticks, Harry got a private room, where he waited for Ron. While he waited, he found himself thinking of all his past relationships. He hadn't been able to shake the pain of the memory of when he proposed to Hermione after the final battle. He found himself thinking back to Julie Cummings, a neighborhood girl two years older then himself, who had been drawn to the 'bad boy' image cultivated by the Dursleys in the summer before third year-an unexpected consequence to the Dursleys-though she quickly saw through it. She didn't leave him after she found out that he wasn't the juvenile delinquent she thought he was, however. She had been his first. His Imzadi, if he remembered the term from Star Trek that Hermione had used during that 'break' from the Horcrux hunt. Then during fourth year it had been Padma and Parvati. Simultaneously. Fifth year was spent chasing that train wreck of a crush, Cho Chang. Sixth year he had dated Ginny. He had fallen in love with her that year. Then there was the Horcrux hunt. Harry had thought that he was in love with Hermione at the time, even proposed to her after the final battle.

What followed was three painful years. _Hang on. The first two years weren't painful. They were the happiest of my life! I never _did_ love Ginny! I really did love Hermione! How could I have been such an idiot? Why did I ever leave Hermione? Now she's lost to me forever._ Harry suddenly realized that the pain from his memories of his time with Hermione was caused by what he had given up, not what had happened. Tears were threatening.

Harry was startled from his reverie by the entrance of Ron. Only he wasn't alone. Hermione followed him into the room. Though the divorce had been bitter, and things were said by both parties that were regretted, they had managed to eventually piece together the friendship they once had. The twins had helped. However, after this new revelation, he couldn't face her. He'd fucked up royally. He turned to Ron and asked, "So why did you want to talk to me?" silently implying _and Hermione_.

Ron sighed heavily. He looked as if he was about to say the hardest thing he had ever had to say. "Last week, while visiting the Burrow, I noticed mum helping Ginny brew a potion, which was odd as they are both highly skilled potion brewers. This made me suspicious, and my Auror instincts kicked in. I disillusioned myself and waited in an out of the way corner for them to finish up and leave the room. When they left the room after completing it, I managed to nick some of it. I gave it to George for analysis. I got the results back yesterday morning. It was Amortentia Minima, a-"

Hermione's eyes were bulging out, a look of cold fury on her face, as she interrupted, "It's only the most subtle love potion ever created. It makes formerly happy memories the one dosed has of a target individual-particularly those most strongly connected to the emotion love-gradually become more painful, until they can no longer consciously think of them anymore. It usually causes strong feelings of resentment to form between the drinker and the chosen target. It's also one of the most difficult and dangerous potions to brew. No wonder she needed help. It's recommended no one shy of a potions master brew it by themselves, even potions masters are recommended to have help when brewing it. That selfish BITCH!"

Ron nodded. "Like most love potions it is legal. However, unlike most love potions, the use of Amortentia Minima to break up a marriage is considered just shy of using an Unforgivable Curse as it's effects are nigh impossible to completely counteract," He added.

Harry was beside himself. He sighed, "This gets us nowhere. So what if I've been manipulated these past sixteen years. Life can never be the way it was before." He was on the verge of tears as his life was suddenly crashing down around him. His sorrow was slowly freezing into a cold fury. He was angry at Ginny for taking away a life that should have been his. He was angry with her for giving him a life that he had never e to think of it, she hadn't wanted him to take the teaching job.

He sighed again, feeling the tears dry up before they could be shed, his cold fury melting back into sorrow. "Thank you for telling me this, but I would have been better off not knowing. At least then I might have had a chance at a happy life with Ginny. Now I've got nothing. I'm not sure if I can even face any of my children."

Hermione stepped forward and hugged him fiercely. "I don't know what to do either. I've enjoyed the past fourteen years, but they were nothing like those two glorious years we had together." Hermione was no longer furious. She was heartbroken. Sure, she had had sixteen years of her life taken away from her. But she had retained her free will throughout all those years. Harry had not. He could do whatever he wanted, except be with her. She had turned to Ron for comfort when Harry had demanded first the separation, then the divorce. Ron had been understanding, but he was always very insecure about their relationship, knowing that he would always be her second choice. Hermione was immensely grateful to him for coming forward with this information.

She turned to Ron. She gave him a big hug, and said, "I, too, really appreciate you coming forward with this. I know how hard it must have been for you. If you had never said anything about it, neither of us would have been the wiser," she hugged him again, this time more deeply than she had Harry. "I'm going to need some time to think. I have some serious soul searching to do," she turned to Harry. "Please, try not to do anything rash."

Ron disentangled himself from Hermione. He walked over to Harry and patted his friend on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll stay with him. I'll make sure Harry stays away from any food packages that Ginny or Mum send." He looked at his friend. "Could you wait outside for a minute? I have something to say to Hermione before we leave." Harry looked up unseeingly with his dead looking eyes and nodded.

After the door was shut, Ron turned to Hermione, "Look, whatever you decide to do, I'll support you. I just want you to be happy."

Hermione, through teary eyes looked up at him in bewilderment. "What happened to the jealous git who refused to be Harry's best man at our wedding? The one who refused to even attend?"

"I dunno, I haven't seen him in a long time. Good thing too. He was a real prat wasn't he?" Ron replied with a smile. "Seriously? I've grown up a lot. I regret not being there for you two at your wedding, or for that entire first year. Dean once told me, 'If you love someone set them free,' and that's what I'm doing now, nineteen years too late. I've been doing a lot of soul searching of my own in the past forty-eight hours. I think if you decide that you can be happier with Harry, you should give it a shot."

He made a move to the door. "I'm gonna take Harry up to the hospital wing. He needs a calming draught and a dreamless sleep potion right now. You go and do whatever thinking you need to do."

Ron opened the door and found Harry sitting on the floor next to the door. "C'mon mate, we need to get you to the hospital wing," he pulled Harry up and proceeded to lead Harry to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey had retired several years ago, and was replaced by Eloise Midgen, who, in her quest to get her nose back on center, had become a talented healer. Ron quickly explained the situation to her, and she gave Harry a dreamless sleep potion along with a calming draught, and went to set up a regimen of potions to help flush the love potion from his system, and maybe something to deal with the depression, though she wasn't to hopeful about the latter.

Ron sat beside the bed of one of his oldest friends. He still couldn't believe what his sister had done. Not only had she given Harry a love potion, she had broken up a perfectly happy marriage. Ron still remembered the day that Hermione had come to him, crying, after the first fight.

He had been sitting in front of the fireplace at his flat, listening to the WWN coverage of the latest thrashing of the Cannons, when suddenly the flames in the fireplace had turned an emerald green and Hermione had rushed out of the fireplace, soot clinging to the tear tracks on her face. While Ron couldn't quite remember what the fight was over, it had certainly sounded like it could have rivaled any of his arguments with Hermione. It had been the first time Hermione had come to him for consolation over a fight with Harry. But it had not been the last. Over the next three months she had made at least one teary-eyed trip to his flat every week.

Until the time she came over and wasn't crying. She didn't say much of anything for the next week, besides asking him if she and the twins could stay over. She had a haunted look in her eyes. When she finally did talk, she had tearfully told him that Harry had thrown her out of their house and was demanding a trial separation. Ron was stunned. That did not sound like the Harry he knew. Then again, the Harry he knew was no longer the Harry he talked to every day.

Six months later divorce proceedings were finalized, and six months after that, Harry and Ginny were married. The Harry he knew seemed to return. Ron and Hermione had fallen in love by then and were married six months after that. The twins were the only reason that Harry and Hermione talked for those first two years, though they eventually did become friends again, even if they were not as close as before.

Ron thought about the past sixteen years. It should have been obvious. Ginny had never been fond of the twins. She had always resented Harry doting on them, and she always tried to ignore them as much as possible when they were around. _How could I have been so blind? I guess I'm not totally innocent in all this, considering I got what I had secretly wanted at the time_. He decided to pay his mum a visit tomorrow, and perhaps he'd take George with him.

* * *

Hermione was staying with her parents, who had returned to Britain just in time for her wedding to Harry. She wanted to know why Ginny had done it. Why she had betrayed the trust that she and Harry had placed in her. She just didn't trust herself to confront her face to face. She took out a parchment and quill and wrote a simple note:

_Why did you do it? Why? WHY?_

She went downstairs and asked if she could borrow Athena, the owl Harry had gotten her parents so they could keep in touch with her. She then sent it off with the note.

After watching Athena disappear into the blackness, she went up to her room and tried to sleep, but sleep did not come easily. Everything about this house reminded her of her time with Harry. Harry had even bought the house for her parents. She remembered the wedding, the vows. She never did stop loving Harry. And quite possibly he still loved her. But could she just leave behind the last fifteen years? Sleep finally found her going over the pros and cons of each option that she could possibly choose.

* * *

A/N: Questions? Comments? Plotholes? Just leave them in a review and I'll do my best to get back to you. I honestly hope you like it. I woke up with the idea and I just couldn't let it get away. Please review; I'm feeling terribly insecure right now, particularly about this fic.


	3. War Inside My Head

Disclaimer: I own _**NOTHING!**_ Not the characters, not the setting, even my car isn't mine; my sister's name is on the title. I do, however, own Jonas, Jenna, and the owl Athena, now that I think about it. Innocence Faded lyrics belong to Dream Theater.

A/N: I've expanded the chapter significantly, and made general improvements to the story in general. Both previous chapters have been changed, but to a much lesser extent.

**Chapter 2: War Inside My Head**

_Hearing voices from miles away  
__Saying things never said__  
Seeing shadows in the light of the day  
Waging a war inside my head_

_-Dream Theater "War Inside My Head"_

The next morning, after contacting Jonas and Jenna to explain the situation and to ask them to stay with their dad while he was gone-a task that they accepted readily-Ron went to George's flat. In the years since Fred's death, Ron had become closer to George than anyone else in the family-except Fred-had ever been. Ron had helped George get over the grief of losing Fred-of losing _himself_. George, meanwhile, had helped Ron get over the jealousy, the anger, and the resentment that he held towards Harry and Hermione. While they hadn't quit gotten to the point where they could volley their half of the conversation between themselves, that was more an issue of timing than anything else. A year ago Ron had left the Auror force to rejoin George at the shop when the life of an Auror actually got _boring._

"Hey, Ron. What are you doing here? You're not scheduled to work today." George said cheerfully as he opened the door.

"I know; this isn't about work, though. You know that potion sample I gave you? The one you said was Amortentia Minima?" George nodded. "Well, I think you should know where I got it. In return I would like your help with a couple of interrogations today. You in?"

"As long as it isn't anything illegal," George replied.

"It's not. I just don't know if I have the strength to go through with them by myself," Ron sighed. "Alright, no point in delaying any longer." He took a deep breath. "I got the sample on my last trip to the Burrow." George's eyes widened in surprise. "Mum was helping Ginny brew it. Ginny was using it on Harry. I'm not sure, but I think she started shortly after the twins were born."

George was seething at this point, but he was able to clamp down on it. "I don't have much knowledge of long term love potions, considering all the ones in the shop are short term, but from what I read about Amortentia Minima, the time it takes to fully separate the drinker from the target varies depending on the depth of the feelings, it's all very vague. She may have started just after the wedding for all we know. Harry and Hermione really loved each other back then."

"They still do," Ron murmured sadly.

George noticed his tone and said, "Not this again. I thought you got over that a long-"

"I am over it," Ron interrupted.

"You sure didn't seem happy that they still love each other," George replied.

Ron shook his head glumly. "I just can't believe Ginny broke them up like that. I can't help but wonder, if we had had another sister, would Harry and Hermione still be together? Was there any way to stop this? When I think back on it, the signs were obvious. Did I notice them and give tacit approval by forgetting them without bringing them to somebody else's attention? I'd be lying if I said it was easy to tell Harry and Hermione about it, but I did. Last night I told them both. I had to. I may not be blameless in this, but I feel that by telling them I started on my way to making up for it."

George gave his little brother a hug. "I'm proud of you. You were the only one who knew about the potion-aside from Ginny and Molly-and you told them. You did the right thing, little brother." He suddenly turned serious, "So, how'd they take it?"

Ron sighed heavily, "Not very well. Hermione initially seemed like she wanted to kill someone before she regained control of her anger. Harry, well, Harry got this dead look in his eyes. He thanked me for telling him, though he went on to say that he would have preferred I hadn't told him because then at least he would, and I quote, 'have had a chance at a happy life with Ginny.' Hermione went off and is currently doing some soul searching, and Harry is, as we speak, under a combination of house arrest and suicide watch in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. I told Hermione that whatever she decides, I'd support her decision."

"You've finally grown up, brother of mine. Hermione would probably tell you that you now have the emotional depth of an eggcup, right about now," George said, smiling and ruffling Ron's hair. "Seriously, I have never, _ever_, been more proud to call you my brother, except maybe the time you perfected the invisible whoopee cushion." George turned very serious. "So, what are we going to do about Molly and Ginny?"

"We'll get to that, but first tell me, why are you suddenly referring to Mum by her first name?"

"Because when she broke up Harry's marriage to Hermione, she forgot that Harry was an honorary Weasley, and Weasleys stick together. She ceased to be our mother when she agreed to help Ginny brew that potion," George explained darkly.

Ron nodded in agreement. "I hadn't thought of it that way," he said thoughtfully. "Now, let's get down to business. Maybe 'interrogations' was too strong a word. I wanted to speak to Mu-to Molly-and Ginny, to find out why they did it, how they could be so heartless. And to remind them of the possible consequences." They then left for the Burrow together.

As soon as they entered the Burrow, their mum-no, Molly Weasley-swooped down upon them.

"Hello, Ron, George," She said as she hugged each of them. She noticed their stiff reactions and pulled back, a concerned look on her face. "What's wrong, dears?"

Ron sighed heavily, unsure of how to ask her what he wanted to know. He decided that the direct approach was probably the best. "Why'd you do it, Molly?'

Molly was taken aback by the heavy sound to her son's words, and his use of her first name. "What do you mean, 'why'd you do it'?"

George, shaking in anger, answered her, "YOU KNOW WHAT HE MEANS! THE LOVE POTION! WHY'D YOU HELP GINNY WITH THE LOVE POTION?"

Molly was again taken aback. She hadn't seen George this grim looking since…since the aftermath of the Final Battle. He'd never raised his voice against anyone, as far as she could remember. She was so surprised by George's reaction that it took her almost a minute to realize that there had been a question in there. When she realized what the question was, she paled. "Y-you know about the love potion?"

Ron nodded, still looking furious. "Yes, we do. I caught you and Ginny brewing it week before last," he paused to let that statement sink in. "When you left the room after finishing it, I took a sample of it and gave it to George for analysis. Why don't you tell Molly what it was, George? Though I dare say she already knows. Right, Molly?

She nodded dumbly, but George continued anyway. "Amortentia Minima. The subtlest love potion known to the wizarding world. I believe you know the gist of the effects, though I imagine Harry and Hermione could give you a detailed firsthand account, if you ask nicely. After you apologized, of course. You'd have to be behind a curseproof barrier, though, to get anywhere near them now."

Ron took over at this point. "Yes, after much internal debate, I decided there was only one thing to do. I told Harry and Hermione what you and that...that _bitch_ I used to call a sister did to them. I can't believe you two broke up their marriage!"

Molly finally found her voice. "I-I thought y-you'd be happy. You were so broken up when they announced their engagement, I thought you'd be happy for the opportunity to be with Hermione."

Ron shook his head in disgust. "I'd gotten over that long before Jonas and Jenna were born. Why do you think I accepted when they asked me to be Jenna's godfather? Did you know that they actually asked Ginny to be Jonas's godmother?" Molly looked startled. "No? She never even answered them, just turned and walked away. I think that's when this little plan of yours was born, wasn't it?" Molly could only nod, even though she knew that it had started earlier.

George spoke up, voice rising with every word. "You do know that Hermione would be well within her rights to challenge Ginny to an honor duel, right? That Ginny would have no chance against Hermione, right? That you could lose your wand, be obliviated, and be forced to live out the rest of your life as a muggle, right?" Molly, paled with each statement, and again all she could do was nod.

Ron took up the conversation at this point. "We won't be taking this to the authorities if you agree to apologize to Harry and Hermione and cease helping Ginny brew the potion. We'll worry about the arrangements, and convincing Harry and Hermione not to press charges, although since they already know, they could have done that already."

He shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "Tell me again, why did you do it, Molly?"

She looked her son in the eyes, and at that point, all that she had done in the past eighteen years to help Ginny flashed before her eyes. She realized how it had affected Jonas and Jenna. How it had hurt Hermione. How it must have torn Harry to shred's.

Harry, the boy she had thought of as a seventh son.

"How is Harry holding up?" she asked, dreading the answer.

George responded, absolutely livid, "Harry is under a combination of house arrest and suicide watch. Jonas and Jenna are with him. Last night his heart was broken-nay, it was shattered, lit on fire, and pissed on! Last night he was told he'd been duped into living a lie for the past sixteen years. How would _you_ respond to that?" Molly was crying now, wishing she could die; then maybe Harry and Hermione would feel better.

"Go ahead and arrange for a meeting between Harry and Hermione and myself. I know I can never make up for what I did. I only ask that you keep me safe long enough to apologize; after that, my fate is up to them," Molly managed to say between sobs. She collapsed in a heap as her two youngest sons, who no longer considered her their mother, left. She hoped either Harry or Hermione would kill her.

* * *

Harry woke in the hospital wing. He wondered for a second why he was there. Then he remembered the events of last night, how he had learned that he'd lived almost half his life in a lie. How he'd been torn away from the woman he loved by a jilted ex. He decided that there was only one thing to do. He had to end it all. He felt for his wand on the bedside table. _Strange, it's usually there when I'm in the hospital wing._ He opened his eyes and grabbed his glasses.

He had just begun looking for his wand on the floor around the table when the door to the hospital wing opened and his oldest two, the ones he was too embarrassed to even look at, walked over to him.

"Uncle Ron told us what happened, Dad. Your wand is locked up for your own safety," Jenna told her father, sniffling as if she'd been crying recently. As he sat back on his bed he felt her arms encircle him. He just sat there; staring at the floor; still unable look either of them in the eyes.

Jonas noticed this and said, "Dad, speak to us, or at least look at us."

Harry just sighed and said, "I don't know if I can ever do that again. I feel like I let you down. I feel like...I don't know. I don't know what's real anymore. I just want this all to go away," he put his head in his hands, but still no tears came.

He felt Jenna let go. He looked up when she grabbed him by the shoulders and knelt down to look him in his face, forcing him to look into her eyes. _His_ eyes. She said, "You did not let us down. Despite all that happened to you, what with the potion and the ugly divorce with mom, you never stopped loving us. You were always there for us, and we've never stopped loving you, we never will stop loving you, Dad." She gave him another hug and sat in a chair next to his bed, while Jonas sat on the other side.

He lay back down and tried to get some more sleep. What sleep he did get was riddled with horrible and depressing dreams. Dreams filled with memories of Sirius falling through The Veil, Dumbledore tumbling from the Astronomy Tower, dead before he cleared the crenellations, and the Final Battle, where so many of his classmates died.

* * *

Hermione woke up in a room that was not immediately recognizable. After a few seconds she remembered the events of the previous night that had led her to her parents' home. Numbly, she got up and went downstairs to the kitchen where her parents, now retired, were sitting, discussing random bits of news.

Her parents could see the pained look in their daughter's eyes, but had resolved not to pry. They were therefore surprised when Hermione threw her arms around her father and started crying her eyes out. Mr. And Mrs. Granger did all they could to comfort Hermione, and after a while she calmed down.

Hermione decided that she needed to speak to someone. When she had composed herself enough to speak at length, she told her parents about the revelations from the previous night. When she was done, she was on the verge of more tears. Her mother pulled her into a hug while she composed her answer.

"Hermione, dear, you know I can't tell you what to do, but I ask you to follow your heart, not your mind. You did that once before, over nineteen years ago. Instead of asking your mind what is better, ask your heart what it wants." Hermione's mother said.

"I've got some more thinking to do then, because my heart is still unsure of what it wants," she said, sounding depressed. She stood and went up to the room she had spent the night in.

* * *

Harry woke up a couple of hours later. Sitting next to the bed were two people he didn't want to face at this time.

"Hi Dad. I hope you feel better soon," Albus said sadly. Or was it apprehensively?

James looked like he had been crying recently. "Jenna told us why you're in here. Do you hate us for what Mum did to you, Dad?" James seemed to be on the verge of more tears.

Harry looked at his first child with Ginny. While he didn't think could ever hate any of his children, he honestly didn't know how he felt about his three youngest after yesterday's revelations. "James, Albus, I don't think I'll ever be able to hate you, but right now, I'm not sure I know who I am anymore. Your mother took fifteen years from me. I can never forgive her for that. I can't blame you for what she did, but you are a constant reminder of it." He took a shuddering breath. After his children left, he turned on the WWN receiver to a station that mixed old muggle music in with wizard music. Soon a song came on that resonated with him, and for the first time since he learned the truth he was able to cry.

_Animation  
Breathes a cloudless mind  
Fascination  
Leaves the doubting blind  
Until the circle breaks and wisdom lies ahead  
The faithful live awake  
The rest remain misled_

_Some will transcend spinning years  
One as if time disappears_

_Innocence faded  
The mirror falls behind you  
Trinity jaded  
I break down walls to find you_

_Callow and vain  
Fixed like a fossil, shrouding pain  
Passionless stage  
Distant like brothers  
Wearing apathetic displays  
Sharing flesh like envy in cages  
Condescending  
Not intending to end_

_Some will transcend spinning years  
One as if time disappears_

_Innocence faded  
The mirror falls behind you  
Trinity jaded  
I break down walls to find you_

_Beginnings get complicated  
The farther we progress  
Opinions are calculated  
Immune to openness_

_Beyond the circles edge  
Were driven by her blessings  
Forever hesitating  
Caught beneath the wheel_

_Innocence faded  
The mirror falls behind you  
Cynically jaded  
The child will crawl to find you._

When the song ended, felt a little less alone. He still hurt, he still felt betrayed, but he no longer felt so isolated. He even was able to chuckle a little about a charming little song about country boners that came on after it. As he drifted off to sleep he realized that that was "Innocence Faded.' Their song. His and Hermione's. Tears flooded his eyes again as sleep took him.

* * *

Ginny walked into the kitchen to find an unfamiliar owl sitting on the windowsill. She let it in and the apparently old bird-not nearly as old as Errol had been when she started school, but old nonetheless-held out a foot with a note tied to it. Ginny took the note and the bird left immediately, almost disgustedly. She opened the tear-stained note from Hermione and her heart skipped a beat. _How did she find out? If she knows, does that mean Harry knows too?_

She was starting to panic when her daughter came into the kitchen, looking for breakfast. She forgot all about the note while making breakfast.

An hour later there was a knock on the door. Suddenly Ginny remembered the note. She grabbed her wand and checked the peephole. Breathing a sigh of relief when it turned out to be only her two brothers, Ron and George, she opened the door and let them in.

Ron noticed her white-knuckled grip on her wand and asked, with a mirthless smile, "Were you expecting You-Know-Who or something?"

Ginny forced a weak chuckle. "No, but you can never be too careful. What did you want?"

George pulled a phial out of his pocket. In it was a potion that Ginny was very familiar with. "Care to explain this, Ginevra?"

"What is it?" Ginny asked carefully. She knew she was a horrible liar when put on the spot, but her mind had gotten stuck in evasion mode.

Ron was growing steadily angrier. "You know what it is. It's the love potion you used to break up Harry and Hermione's marriage. The love potion you've been using on him for the past seventeen years. We all know what it is; George and I just wanted to give you the chance to fess up first. I thought that perhaps you had learned the error in your ways. It seems not. How did you ever make it into Gryffindor anyway? Your actions over the past seventeen years are so very Slytherin. You disgust me."

Ginny was shocked. How did they find out? All she could manage to say was, "I thought you would appreciate the chance to be with Hermione. You certainly seemed to for the past fifteen years," this she spat venomously.

Ron backhanded her across the face. "You stupid, selfish, cunt! I had gotten over it by the time their twins were born. You were there when I agreed to be Jenna's godfather. You should have known I was over it. It tore me apart to see Hermione crying her eyes out after the fights. And when Harry demanded the trial separation, she barely spoke for a week afterwards! I regret not being there for them that first year after they were married. Because of you, Harry is on suicide watch and house arrest right now."

Ginny was crying. "B-but I l-lov-ve hi-im-m!" she wailed as she touched her fingers to her lips. The blow was hard enough that she'd bittin the inside of her lower lip, drawing blood.

Ron looked at his former sister for a minute before speaking in a softer, but no less cold or deadly, voice, "If you love someone, you're supposed to set them free. If they love you back, they'll return. If they don't, then you should be happy for them." Ron seemed too angry to continue.

George had been silent for long enough. "Do you realize you've brought three children into the world through a marriage based on lies, deception and coercion? Neither Ron, nor I know how Harry will react to them. I just hope he doesn't hate them."

Ron, calming down enough to speak once again, said, "How Harry reacts to your kids is the least of you worries, however, as Hermione is entirely within her right to challenge you to an honor duel. Such a duel would be to the death. You, of course, would have no chance against Hermione. Also, an honor duel is the only time when the Unforgivables are permissible, and I do believe she would-what was it Harry said that Lestrange slag said was necessary to cast the Unforgivables? Ah, yes-I do believe she would _mean them_. And you never answered us. Why?"

Ginny was scared stiff. "I love him," she finally managed to say in a weak voice.

George shook his head disdainfully, "No, Ginevra, you had a crush on the 'Boy-Who-Lived' from the age of seven. You never actually loved Harry. You were attracted to his fame. If you had truly loved him you would have been happy for him when he found love. We're going to try to arrange a meeting for Molly so she can apologize to Harry and Hermione without being cursed into oblivion. We want to know if you want to apologize to them as well. Oh, and don't even _think_ of trying to slip Harry any more potions. All food packages sent to him are being checked for any sort of potions, the ones that contain them are being pitched."

Ginny nodded dumbly, and, before they left, asked, "Could one of you take Lily for the day for me?"

George went to retrieve his goddaughter, then left. When they were gone, Ginny curled into a ball in a corner of the kitchen and cried her eyes out. _Eighteen years. Eighteen years of brewing that potion and giving it to Harry once a week, all down the drain._

* * *

That night in the Gryffindor common room Jonas and Jenna were sitting with their half-brothers trying to comfort them. James was looking almost as depressed as his father, and Albus looked even more so.

Jonas realized that their attempts to comfort them weren't working and decided that the younger boys needed to be taken to the hospital wing where Madame Midgen would know what to do with them. Hopefully.

When they got to the hospital wing and had them all sorted out Jonas quietly, so that Harry wouldn't hear, told Madame Midgen his opinion that Albus needed to be put on suicide watch, probably even more so than his father.

Jonas and Jenna were terrified as to what was going to happen to their family in the coming months. They did their best to comfort each other. By the time they went to bed they vowed to be the glue that held their family together. They had to be there for their half-brothers and half-sisters.

* * *

Another chapter down. Kinda started to ramble toward the end there. I hope you like it.

Questions? Comments? Plotholes? Put them in a review (Please!) and I will try to respond to them.


	4. The Test That Stumped Them All

Disclaimer: If I were to say "The Boulevard of Broken Dreams" is a good song, would anybody realize I _**wasn't**_ talking about a Green Day song? I thought not. Kinda surprising really, considering all the clues that my stories give my readers as to my musical tastes. Oh, yeah, just a reminder, I don't own Harry Potter, or any song whose lyrics appear in my stories.

A/N: In case you haven't noticed the previous three chapters have been heavily modified. I added over 1000 words to Chapter 2: War Inside My Head. I hope you enjoy.

**Chapter 3: The That Stumped Them All**

_Still the keep me between these hollow walls__  
Hoping to find in me  
The answers to the test that stumped them all_

_-Dream Theater "The Test That Stumped Them All_

The next morning Harry woke up to see Ron sitting next to his bed with Rose Weasley. Rose was the first to notice he was awake. "Morning Uncle Ha-I mean Professor Potter," she said, not showing any emotion. Harry looked at his niece, who looked for all the world like her mother did at that age, except Rose had red hair like her father.

"Morning Rose," Harry mumbled. He wondered why Ron had her with him. He rolled over to ignore them-only to come face to face with Hugo Weasley. Harry was on the verge of tears now, surrounded by reminders of his foolishness.

Ron noticed this and quickly said, "I asked them to be here because I have something to say and I don't want to explain this more than I have to. I want you to know, mate, that I told Hermione that whatever she decides to do, you know, about the choice between you and me, I'd support her. I love her, but I have a feeling she loves you more than she does me. If she does choose you, I want you to know that I'll be your best man this time," Ron said as he patted his best friend on his shoulder.

Harry, feeling a little better, managed a weak smile. "Whatever happened to the jealous git who refused to be the best man at our wedding? The one who refused to even attend?"

Ron laughed at this. "Would you believe that Hermione asked the _exact_ same thing when I told her that? Well, I didn't tell her that I thought she would leave me for you, but I think that saying that I'd support her no matter what she decided got across the same point. But to answer your question, Dean once told me, if you love someone set them free. If they love you back, they'll return. If not, you should be happy for them. Between him and George, I was able to get over it by the time Jonas and Jenna were born, as you well know. Though I'm not sure I'll ever forgive you for what you did to Hermione in the months leading up to your divorce. She might, but that's a tribute to how much she loves you. I won't, because it tore at me to see her cry the way she did."

"I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive _myself_ for what I did then. I know I was under the effects of the potion, but I feel like I failed. I failed her. I failed Jonas and Jenna." A single tear slid down his cheek.

"Don't say that, Harry. In other known cases where that potion was used, most people succumbed to its effects within weeks, two months on the outside. Though we're not sure, George and I believe Ginny started giving it to you shortly after the twins were born," Ron gave his best friend-no, his _brother_-a one armed hug. "If we're right, that means you held out for almost a year before giving in."

"It doesn't make sense for her to wait that long. I think she might have started just after Hermione got pregnant. I can't say why I think she started then and not earlier, except that it feels, I don't know, correct, to say that that was when she started dosing me."

When they left, he switched on the WWN receiver and tuned it to the station that played old muggle music. When Harry heard the song playing, he didn't know whether he should laugh or cry. In the end Harry decided to laugh hysterically, though it did leave him in tears. Madame Midgen had to stun him before she could force a calming draught down his throat.

* * *

As Harry was cracking up, Ron was exiting the castle with his children in tow. Rose, who was only following him to the gates, asked, "Dad, what was that you said, about a choice that Mum was going to make between you and Uncle Harry?"

Ron, suddenly realizing that he'd forgotten to explain something, slapped his forehead with his palm in exasperation. _Shit, I knew I forgot something_. The only question was how much should he tell them. _They both got their intelligence from their mother, thank Merlin, so I guess I could tell them everything, or at least most of it, anyway._

He conjured three folding camp chairs, and motioned for them to take a seat. "Now, you know that your mum was married to Harry before she married me, right?" They both nodded. "They were married right before we began our seventh year. Up until the Final Battle, Your mum and I were a couple, but your mum didn't really feel for me in that way back then. Her heart belonged to Harry, probably still does-though I don't think she realizes it," he sighed heavily. "Anyway, after the Final Battle Harry confessed his love to her, and proposed to her, which she accepted. At that time I thought I would never forgive them. I did forgive them, however, shortly before Jonas and Jenna were born on 12 May 2000. Harry and Hermione seemed destined to be together forever. Obviously, it didn't last.

"About a year later, the fights started. She would always come to me for comfort afterwards. It tore at my heart to see Hermione so broken up. I can remember her description of some of them, and it still amazes me that she kept going back. I'm rambling again. Anyhow, about three months after the first fight, she came over, and asked me if she and the twins could stay over. I said she could, and she didn't talk to anyone except the twins for a week afterwards." He shook his head. "It turned out Harry was asking for a trial separation, and two weeks after she started staying with me, he started divorce proceedings. It was a bitter divorce; I still can't believe some of the things they said to each other. Five and a half months later, the divorce was complete.

"Almost six months after the divorce, Harry and Ginny got married. Neither your mum nor I attended. Your mum wasn't invited, and I was angry with Harry for getting remarried so soon. Though I turned out a hypocrite, as your mum and I got married just under six months after Harry and Ginny."

"Why did Uncle Harry and Mum get a divorce?" Hugo asked. "You make it sound as if they never stopped loving each other. It makes no sense." Though he would never admit it to Hermione, Ron was fairly certain that Hugo was far smarter than Hermione ever was. He sometimes joked to Hermione that Hugo was too smart to be his son.

"There is a simple reason. You see, before the Horcrux hunt, Harry had gone out with your Aunt Ginny. Ginny had always had a crush on Harry, but I'm not sure she ever thought that she actually had a chance until she and Harry started dating in the spring of 1997. Harry and Hermione got a divorce because your Aunt Ginny was using a love potion on Harry. A very subtle one, called Amortentia Minima. We've all looked back on the years since the divorce, and it seems obvious in hindsight, but there were only two people close enough to Harry to notice the differences in him. Ginny wasn't going to tell anyone, and I was too stupid to realize what they all meant. I've never understood how your mum never noticed them. I guess she was just too upset to notice." Ron replied sadly.

Rose got up and hugged her father tightly. "I think your doing the right thing Dad. But I also think you give yourself too little credit. With Mum, that is. You've been married fourteen, almost fifteen years. I'm sure this is going to be the hardest decision Mum has ever made," Rose said, her words showing wisdom far beyond her years. Hugo nodded his assent.

Ron, not sure if he should be relieved at how they took it, or distressed by what Rose said, stood up, vanished the chairs, and led Hugo off of the grounds.

As he cleared the wards, he got an idea. After contacting George on a set of two-way mirrors they had, he apparated to Bill and Fleur's place, where he asked Fleur if she could watch Hugo for him for a few days. He then apparated back to Hogsmeade, walked back to the castle, all the way to Professor McGonagall's office. After a short discussion through the gargoyle, Ron was admitted into her office.

"Now, Mr. Weasley, what was it you wanted to speak to me about?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"I'd like to volunteer to fill in for Harry while he's..." He searched for the right word, "_incapacitated_," he finally said, carefully.

"Very well, I think you'll do. Your test results weren't quite as high as Harry's, if I remember correctly, but you still scored Exceeds Expectations on your Defense Against the Dark Arts N.E.W.T., which you achieved without Hermione urging you to study. I'd appreciate your help, and I'm sure Harry does as well.

* * *

Hermione was listening to one of her favorite albums, "Octavarium" by Dream Theater, pondering what to do. Progressive Rock and Metal, particularly Dream Theater, always helped her think. Sure, she loved Harry. She loved him more than she loved Ron. But she had made a life with Ron, for fourteen years. She couldn't just turn her back on all those years. She was no closer to deciding what to do than she was two days ago. But she had to get back to work. She packed up what little she had brought with her and walked downstairs to bid her parents goodbye.

She found them sitting in the kitchen, much as they had been the day before, discussing random bits of news, though today her father was getting ready to leave for a round of golf with some old buddies of his. She could tell by the hideous clothes he was wearing.

"Mum, Dad, I've got to get back to Hogwarts. I'm only a first year teacher and I need to get back before the Headmistress decides to sack me," she said as she gave each of her parents a hug.

"Have you come to a decision yet?" her mother asked.

"No. My heart doesn't even know what it wants. Maybe getting back to work, taking my mind off of it, will make things more clear. All I know is that I'm getting nowhere just thinking about it. When I make my decision, you'll be the first to know, after Harry and Ron, of course," she said as she apparated to Hogsmeade.

* * *

Harry 'woke' to find George sitting by the bed. Only he wasn't alone. Lily was sitting on his lap. "Afternoon, Harry. She wanted to see you. She overheard Ron and I talking about how upset you were and she just had to see you," George said, then mouthed, '_She doesn't know what happened_.'

"Are you feeling better, Daddy?" Lily asked, Harry saw the look of worry and love in his daughter's face and he knew for sure that he couldn't hate his children with Ginny. But he still didn't know how he felt about his three youngest.

"I don't know. Your mother..." he trailed off, lost in thought.

"Is this about Mum's special potion? The one that she said if you stopped taking you would get really, really sad, and you would do crazy things like leave her?" Lily asked.

"Y-You _knew_?" Harry had the distant urge to strangle her. He easily clamped down on it. He shook his head, reminding himself she was just a little girl, and Ginny almost certainly threatened grave punishment if she told him.

George, seeing the anger flash across Harry's face, leaned over and said to Lily, "Why don't you go talk to your brothers for a while, okay?"

Lily nodded enthusiastically and hopped off the bed and through the partition. Harry was surprised when, instead of heading towards the doors, the sound of her footsteps led further into the room. They were cut off as George cast a quick privacy charm. "James and Albus didn't handle the news too well last night," George said, anticipating Harry's question. "I hear Ron told you about what he told Hermione. I've never been more proud to call him my brother. I want you to know, the entire Weasley family, except for Molly and Ginevra, are there for you."

"Thanks George, that means a lot to me," Harry said. He was a little unnerved about how...how normal his emotions felt, when he knew he should feel anything _but_ normal. "What happened to me? I feel...well, I don't feel depressed anymore."

"Madame Midgen had to give you a calming draught. You apparently cracked up. You were in such a fit of hysterics that she had to stun you before she could give you the potion. What brought that on, anyway?"

"A song, believe it or not. It was by a muggle band called Lordi. I think it was about a guy whose wife kills him, and he gets his revenge from beyond the grave," He could barely feel the hysterics tugging at the edge of his consciousness. "I guess I feel like Ginny killed me, and I want to get my revenge on her. I dunno. My memory gets kinda hazy about the time the song began. I know the gist of the song because I've heard it so many times," he paused. "God, the effects of a calming draught are unnerving. I know what emotions I feel at any given time, but I don't experience them. Is that _normal_?"

"Not usually, but then again, when have you ever been normal?" George asked with a smile. "Also, a calming draught usually isn't used for stuff like this. Eloise says she thinks you are what muggles call _die bowler_, or something like that."

"That's _bipolar_," said a new voice. A kindly looking woman Harry's age came around the curtain. She was short and Harry would describe her as voluptuous. She had the classic hourglass figure, and was rather, er, _top-heavy_.

"H-how did you hear that? I thought I put up a privacy charm," George stammered.

"You did. Madame Pomfrey got sick of people doing that and during the last few years before her retirement spent her free time working on a charm to allow her to hear what was being said behind them. She never finished it, but she gave me her notes and I managed to get it to work the other day. It isn't perfect, as it only allows me to hear what's being said behind a privacy charm when I'm nearby. Plus, what I hear is very fuzzy, so it's not the best solution. I'll have to talk to Hermione about it tonight." She said

"Now as for your condition, the muggles call it Bipolar Depression. They used to call it Manic Depressive, but Bipolar is the more common term nowadays. It's characterized by periods of depression, and also periods of mania-racing thoughts, irritability, delusions of grandeur, and in some cases psychosis. The periods last for about a week or more, and they occur at least four times a year, and sometimes come in what is known as a mixed state, where depression is accompanied by mania. People with Bipolar are also prone to mood swings, regardless of what state they're in, and can focus on one task to the exclusion of all others. Does any of this sound familiar?" Harry nodded, "That answers that question. Now as for your emotional state, a calming draught has never been used in this situation before, but it was the only thing I could think of to stop the hysterics. It's not a permanent solution, and I don't want to put you on a regimen of them. I've sent letters to colleagues in America, Japan and Greece. Those countries are far ahead of England when it comes to integrating muggle and magical solutions. I should have an answer soon enough from one of them. Until then I'm keeping you here for your own safety. Ron has volunteered to take over for you until you get better," she said. "I've also been in contact with a squib psychologist, and he'll be coming by later in the week to see if there's anything he can do for you."

"Thanks, Madame Midgen, for all you've done to help me get better," Harry said.

"It's my job," She said with a smile as she went to check on her other patients.

* * *

Teddy Lupin was having lunch with his grandmother, Andromeda Tonks, when he received a letter, delivered by a small, excitable, and rather old owl. He wondered what Ron Weasley, a man who was like an uncle to him, wanted.

_Teddy,_

_I gave Harry some bad news the other day and he hasn't taken it very well. I'll let him explain. He's currently in the Hogwarts hospital wing._

_Sincerely,_

_Ron_

Harry. The man that was a father to him since he was only a year old. He quickly finished his lunch, gave his grandmother a hug, and apparated to Hogsmeade. From there he set off to visit his godfather. He reached the hospital wing as George and Lily were leaving. Upon entering the room, he found Harry behind a partition, lying on what he'd learned had been his 'second bed' all those years ago when he was in Hogwarts. Rumor was that no one had used it since Harry's seventh year.

"So Ron tells me you're pretty broken up," Teddy said. "What happened, if I may ask?"

"Well, your suspicions were right. Ginny was using a love potion on me. What I would like to know is what made you suspect that." Harry said, eerily calm.

"First tell me how you know of my suspicions. I've only ever told one person about it." Teddy responded, wondering if perhaps Victoire had said something to him.

"You were in my house when you said it, and I was in the other room. I never brought it up because I thought it was preposterous at the time. I only just remembered what you told Victoire." Harry replied. "Now it's your turn."

Teddy thought for a minute before saying, "Well, I've seen Pensieve memories of both your wedding to Hermione and your wedding to Ginny, and in the memory of your first wedding, the love was tangible. I could see it; I could reach out and touch it. With the second wedding, there was no love. The only _genuine_ emotion that was evident was... well, I guess it could only be called possession, and Ginny exuded it with everything she said, with every movement. After I watched that memory, I noticed that same attitude in her whenever Hermione was nearby, as if she was warning her off. It was rather odd, to say the least. Also, I've never seen you as happy as you were in the memory of your first wedding. I could name many other factors, but that would take a while."

"Was it really that obvious? Was the evidence staring everyone in the face?" Harry asked.

"Not unless you know what to look for. Most of the subtle, long-term, love potions don't give you the tell tale glassy eyes that the short-term ones do. My guess, based on all the symptoms, is that it was Amortentia Minima. I could be wrong, but all evidence points to the fact that she was going for subtlety, and that's the subtlest there is by a long shot. She wouldn't even need that much help to make it, considering she probably could pass the test to be a certified Potions Mistress," was the answer.

"I see the Auror training is doing some good. I've always said that, with your mother's skills and intelligence and your father's grace, you'd make an excellent Auror, and it looks like you're going to prove me right in two years. I know I've said it so many times in the past eighteen years that it's become cliche, but your parents would be extremely proud of you. I know I am," Harry said as he hugged his godson.

They talked a little more, but by the time Teddy left, the calming draught was beginning to wear off. He turned on the WWN to his usual station, and was relieved that no songs that underscored his current mood were played. The only song that stood out to him was "Octavarium" by Dream Theater, all 24 minutes of it. When Hermione first introduced him to their music all those years ago, he didn't really think they were that great, but they definitely grew on him. He rolled over and went to sleep.

* * *

A/N: Gee, Harry sleeps a lot, doesn't he? That's just part of bipolar. You sleep a lot in a depressive state, and barely sleep in a manic state. I believe that there is canon evidence for Harry being bipolar. Just look at his portrayal in books 5-7. Periods of sullenness, racing thoughts in a mania, and general irritability and rapid mood swings. I think the conversation after his arrival at Grimmauld place in book five is the best illustration of the point, how he goes from curious about where he is to a towering rage in no time flat, then calms back down so quickly. Granted, that could just be poor writing, but there is at least a possible in story explanation. Also, is there a canon description for Rose? If so, what is it? And yes, I _am_ obsessed with Dream Theater.

Also, the next chapter is complete, and I will be posting it soon. It could be a couple hours, maybe a couple of days, I don't know, though I imagine it will only be a matter of hours.

Finally,

Questions? Comments? Plotholes? Put them in a review (Please!) and I will try to respond to them.

Hanoi Rocks FTW!


	5. Goodnight Kiss

Disclaimer: There's no 'I' in team. However, there is an 'i' in pie. And in meat pie. And 'meat' is and anagram for 'team.' And I have no idea where I'm going with this. If it was in the books it's not mine. Dream Theater lyrics belong to Dream Theater. Aggressive cat is aggressive. Defensive cat is defensive.

A/N: Day three, part two. This whole story is a brooding, introspective piece, and, as such, it moves at a very slow pace.

Some other entirely unconnected notes:

I already had plans to split this day before I was even half done with the previous chapter.

Dimmu Borgir is Symphonic Black Metal. You need to know that fact for a joke later on.

There might actually be a band that describes themselves as Symphonic Celtic Death Metal, but I wouldn't know. I just thought it sounded like a funny subgenre.

**Chapter 4: Goodnight Kiss**

_I want you to know I'd die for just one more moment  
__I'm just a poor girl  
__Afraid of this cruel world  
Taken away from it all_

_-Dream Theater "Goodnight Kiss"_

Hermione arrived in time to teach her last class of the day. It was a first year class, where all they were doing was practicing wand movements.

After class she slowly made her way to her office, but before she reached it she was intercepted by her oldest two. Jonas cleared his throat and said, "Mu-I mean Professor Granger," Hermione had chosen to go by her maiden name when teaching, feeling it would carry more of an impact academically than Weasley, "Can we talk? In private?" Jonas said. He was often called a 'momma's boy,' and he would be first to admit that it was an accurate description, considering he took after her side of the family more than Harry's. He was the smarter of the two twins-granted, smarter was a relative term as they were both extremely bright-while Jenna was the more athletic-again, a relative term as they were both very athletic, with Jonas quite possibly being the best beater to play for the Gryffindor quidditch team since Fred and George Weasley left Hogwarts, evidenced by the fact that he was the first beater in over one hundred fifty years to captain a house quidditch team. He had, however, made it perfectly clear that he had no plans for going pro at it, opting instead to join the ranks of the Aurors. At 6'5" and 16 stone ten of pure muscle, he was a tall, broad young man, resembling his maternal grandfather who, in his youth, had been a rugby forward. Though usually quiet and reserved, he had been known to juggle cauldrons from time to time, to entertain first years-or show off his muscles to Brianna Carson, a girl in his year, only in Ravenclaw, that had caught his eye in his third year. She, unfortunately for him, thought he was an arrogant prat. It reminded Hermione of some stories she had heard about Harry's parents.

Jenna, on the other hand, was a short, slender girl. Hermione, at 5'4", towered over her daughter's elfin 4'10" frame. Many considered her very attractive, with her straight, shiny, blood red hair that fell just past her shoulders, emerald eyes, pale skin, and full lips. That, and a figure that made everyone take notice, be it attraction or jealousy. Though Hermione would never admit it to herself-much less anyone else-she was jealous of her oldest daughter's curves. Hermione had wondered how the girl had ended up being so short, until she did some research and found that Harry, at 5'10", was a full four inches taller than his father. Using that as reference, she took some measurements from some of Harry's photos of his parents and found that Lily had actually been only and inch taller than Jenna, though the margin of error was approximately two inches._ Also,_ Hermione thought, _my mother is five feet even._ She still marveled at how different her oldest two looked. It reminded her of the movie _Twins_. Unsurprisingly, most people assumed that Jonas was the older one, when really Jenna was almost fifteen minutes older.

So deep in thought was she that she stood at the door to her office for a full thirty seconds, just thinking, before Jenna cleared her throat, "So, er, that's a nice door you've got there. I can only imagine what the rest of your office looks like." She met her mother's glare with a radiant, if mischievous, grin. Hermione opened her door, went to her CD player and put on the album "Spit" by Kittie.

"Must you listen to such moldy old music, Mum?" Jonas asked with a false air of disgust.

"I'll have you know your father and I almost named you Morgan and Mercedes, but decided not to when we couldn't agree on which one of you would be which." She shot them a mischievous smirk. "Now, I assume you didn't want to talk in private just to berate my taste in music, so what was it you wanted to talk to me about?" Hermione asked.

The twins shared a glance, communicating in a way that only twins can. _That's not entirely true. Harry and I used to be able to have entire conversations in one fleeting glance_, Hermione thought sadly._ I do miss those days. Ron's been good to me all these years, but, Harry and I, we connected on a much deeper level. But is that still possible, after all that's happened?_ Hermione sighed, still unsure about what to do, bracing herself for the pleas she was about to hear, urging her to go back to Harry. _In any other situation it would be odd that no one thinks for a second that Harry might stay with Ginny, but there's no way Harry is going to stay with that...that..._Hermione couldn't think of a word that accurately described the woman she once considered a friend.

"Has anyone told you how Dad's been doing since he found out?" Jonas asked.

"No, why?" Hermione asked. In her self-imposed exile of introspection she had completely forgotten about how Harry must have been taking it. She remembered the dead look in his eyes, and the only time she could think of that he looked anywhere near as bad as that was after the deaths of Sirius and Dumbledore.

Jenna spoke up, saying, "He's on suicide watch, and Madame Midgen won't let him out of the hospital wing for fear he might...do something to Ginny." Hermione was reminded of how the twins had never liked Ginny. How, when they were younger, they had often compared her to the wicked stepmother character in fairytales. _They weren't far off, as it turns out._ _Why was it that no one noticed the signs? How did _I_ not recognize the clues?_ _Ginny's dislike of Jonas and Jenna from birth should have been an obvious clue_. Hermione was shaken from her thoughts when Jenna spoke up again. "James and Albus had to be taken to the hospital wing last night because they were almost as upset as Dad, and even Rose looked kind of subdued at lunch today."

_Ginny didn't just do this to Harry and me. She did it to the entire Weasley clan as well, whether she realizes it or not._ Hermione sorrowfully shook her head. "I'll go look in on him later," She said.

"Thanks, Mum," Jonas said as he gave her a hug.

* * *

Harry awoke to the sounds of "Sacrificed Sons," yet another song by Dream Theater, being played. _Jeez, does Hermione write the playlists for this station?_ Then he remembered that Lee Jordan had bought the station shortly after the final battle. _I forgot. Lee married Parvati shortly before I...well, before I left Hermione. And of course, being roommates with Hermione, she had to have learned to like Dream Theater just for the sake of her sanity. She probably turned _him_ onto Dream Theater. Will this cycle _never_ end?_

It was true that muggle music, particularly Hard Rock and Heavy Metal had gained popularity in the wizarding world in the almost two decades since the Final Battle. Even older witches and wizards were drawn to it. Harry still remembered waking in on Mr. Weasley listening to Dimmu Borgir's album "_In Sorte Diaboli._" He was playing air violin. There was even a band consisting of purebloods that had achieved considerable success in the muggle world in the past eight years. It was named _Sectumsempra_ and was credited with creating the genre of Symphonic Celtic Death Metal.

'Sacrificed Sons' brought up memories of the time his Auror squad had seen action in Iraq. It still irked him that those American muggles got credit for finding Saddam. _Damn it, I found him! The cover story was ridiculous; it would have worked for anyone, so why couldn't I have received credit where credit was due?_ Still, he did receive the Ace of Spades from _the_ commemorative playing card deck the U.S. President used to keep track of the...of the..._What was that deck of cards for anyway?_ Harry remembered remarking to Ron afterwards that the man was living proof of just how far an "Acceptable" student could go. He remembered how Ron had repeatedly called the American president 'President Shrub,' how after one of the times Harry corrected him, Ron actually asked the president of richest nation in the world if he was related to the people who made Budweiser. It was a shame that six years later the U.S. economy collapsed, creating the world's largest third world nation. The thought threatened to send his thoughts to a dark place, so he tried to think of happier things.

The trip itself had been fun, all things considered. In addition to meeting the president, they had toured several American cities. He chuckled at the memory of dropping dungbombs off of the observation deck of the Sears Tower. He thought of the stares they had gotten while walking around Detroit in the middle of January...wearing Hawaiian shirts and gothic makeup, with no coats. He remembered how Ginny-and just like that, the soap bubble that had been his building good mood burst, plummeting him back into his deep depression.

The door opened and Harry heard the voices of the two people he least expected to ever see walking the halls of Hogwarts. Shortly after the Final Battle Uncle Vernon had suffered a fatal heart attack, leaving Petunia without any means to support herself. Dudley still had a year to go at Smeltings, but he was going to forgo it in order to go to work to help pay the bills. Harry never would have known if he hadn't visited them at their new house-which the Order had set them up with after the battle-to invite them to his wedding. He hadn't wanted to, but Hermione had made him. He remembered it as though he was watching it through the wrong end of a telescope.

* * *

_He was walking down the very generic looking drive in the small community on the outskirts of London, not unlike Little Whinging to be sure, though the houses here were of a slightly different design. He struggled to find his destination amongst all the unnaturally perfect houses._

_There. Number Six, Saxony Road._

_He walked up the path through the garden-which, he noted, was not up to the standard of the one back at Privet Drive that he had maintained-and rang the doorbell remembering all the times his Uncle complained about people knocking when there was a perfectly good doorbell._

_His aunt answered the door. "What do you want, boy?" she asked, somewhere between disgust, fear, and anger. There was something else in the mix, but he couldn't tell just what._

_"Believe me, I'm not here because _I_ want to be. I'm here because my fiancee told me I have to invite you. If it were up to me, you would never have heard from me again, but _no,_ I've got to invite you to what should have been the happiest event of my life. And I've got to deliver the invitation in person no less!" Something struck him as odd, but he was too busy ranting to puzzle it over._

_"What are you babbling on about boy?" Aunt Petunia shouted. Harry, who had continued his litany internally, was interrupted from his silent ravings._

_"Oh, sorry. I'm getting married on the twenty-fourth of August, and my fiancee wanted me to invite you. Don't worry, it's a normal ceremony in a normal church," he reassured her. Whatever was out of place was really bugging him._

_"She's one of _your_ kind." It wasn't a question._

_"Yes, you've seen her before. She's Hermione Granger," Harry said._

_"Let me think... Short, with messy brown hair and big teeth?" She asked. Harry vaguely remembered Vernon making a similarly "Pot-Kettle-Black" statement._

_"Well, she used to have big teeth. She got them fixed. Her parents are dentists, you see," he knew that by telling a vague half-truth Aunt Petunia would, according to Occham's Razor, choose the simpler, more palatable explanation._

_"I bet they weren't happy when she used magic to fix those teeth of hers, in that case." Aunt Petunia replied._

_Harry was semi stunned. _Occham, you fool, you've failed me!_ he thought. That nagging sensation that was bugging him seemed to shout and point at something, but Harry wasn't sure what._

_"Anyway, are you coming to the wedding?" Harry asked._

_"Yes, tell your fiancee to add two more to the guest list," Aunt Petunia said sadly._

_"So Dudley won't be able to make it?" Harry asked. The only reason he asked was because when they last parted company, Dudley actually seemed like he might be turning over a new leaf, becoming someone worth knowing._

_Her eyes glazed over with tears, as she responded, "No, Dudley will be attending. Vernon...V-Vernon p-passed away," She threw her arms around him and started sobbing into his shoulder, right there on the front step._

_Harry was stunned. Uncle Vernon was no mere man in his psyche. He was a force of nature, like an earthquake, or a volcano. He just couldn't equate death with his uncle. _The Grim Reaper must have had a real fight on his hands when he took on Vernon Dursley_, he thought. What he said was this, "I'm so sorry, Aunt Petunia. If there's anything I can do, just name it."_

_"Y-you'd be willing to help us? After all we did to you?" His aunt asked, and if she was afraid that he was playing some cruel joke._

_"Yes, but more for what you did _for_ me. You did take me in, even if you didn't treat me very well. You kept Vernon from throwing me out three years ago. Plus, Dudley seemed to be changing his ways last year. If I didn't help you now, I'd be no better than Vernon. Or the one who killed my parents," Harry said._

_Aunt Petunia accepted, and Harry agreed to pay for Dudley's final year at Smelting's, and give Petunia a small monthly 'allowance,' of sorts._

_As Harry was leaving, his aunt said, "I don't know how to thank you for this."_

_"You don't have to. You're all the family I have left. We may not have acted like family in the past, but, as they say, there's no time like the present," Harry said, and then turned and walked away, noting the 'for sale' sign in front of the house next door. _

_Two weeks later, Harry bought the house next door for the Grangers upon their return to the U.K._

* * *

Harry wondered for an instant how they had found out. _Hermione must have told her parents, who then told Aunt Petunia. Makes sense, I guess._ Petunia and Cassandra, Hermione's mother, had become fast friends. Petunia had always been rather cold towards Ginny. _I always assumed it was because she was a friend of Hermione's mother, but perhaps she could sense something._

As they came around the divider, Harry got up and greeted them, embracing Aunt Petunia and giving Dudley a firm handshake. Dudley, a former boxing Heavyweight Champion of the World, now owned, along with Harry, the controlling stake in Grunning's. "I never expected to see you two here. You just might be the first muggles to cross the threshold of Hogwarts for the better part of a millennium." Harry said. "So, why did you come to visit me? More importantly, how did you get here, anyway?"

"Cassandra told me what happened, Harry," Aunt Petunia said. "She said that she hadn't seen Hermione this broken up since the divorce. Poor dear, she's heartbroken."

Dudley said, "As for how, Mum sent the owl you gave her to your brother-in-law, er, George, I think it was-the one with only one ear-"

"That's George," Harry interrupted, nodding.

"Anyway, she sent her owl to him. I don't know why she sent it to him, except that she likes him more than the others, I guess. He came and got us and brought us here," Dudley said. "But we're not here to talk about us."

He took a deep breath, and said, "I can't even begin to imagine the heartache you must be going through right about now. We'll be there for you if you need us. Remember that." His words were filled with an empathy that Harry never would have believed possible for him nineteen years ago.

"I always knew there was something wrong about that Weasley girl. I never told you because you seemed so happy, and after all that Vernon, Dudley, and I put you through, I felt you deserved all the happiness you could get. Still, I never thought something like this was possible, even with magic," Aunt Petunia lamented.

They spoke for a while longer before Aunt Petunia and Dudley got up to leave. Just as they stood the door opened and Jonas and Jenna strode in. They saw the Dursleys and Jenna rushed forward to greet them, while Jonas strode over in a more dignified manner.

"Harry, your daughter just gets prettier and prettier every time I see her. Are you sure she's yours?" Dudley asked, grinning.

"I'm pretty sure," Harry responded. "Though that might explain the straight hair," he added in a thoughtful tone, giving Dudley a smile in return.

"Stop it, both of you," Petunia said. "Jenna, don't listen to them. You look so much like Lily did at your age." Petunia gave her nephew's daughter a hug. After the separated, she said, "Now, Jonas on the other hand, there's definitely no way he's yours. He's way too tall," she continued, ruffling Jonas's hair as he leaned over to give his great-aunt a kiss on the cheek. After exchanging pleasantries, the Dursleys left to find their escort.

"You know," Jenna said, "I think she's right, little brother. You're way too tall to be a Potter." She flashed a radiant-if mischievous-smile at her brother, and then looked at her father.

"So, Dad, how are you feeling today?" she asked.

"Better. Well, I'm feeling better _now_, anyway. This morning I had a fit of hysterics and had to restrain the urge to strangle Lily," he said, sadly. "They were separate incidents," he added, noticing their puzzled expressions.

When their looks of befuddlement didn't go away, he said, "She knew about the love potion." The puzzled expressions disappeared.

"You can't blame her, Dad. Even if she did know _about_ it, she probably didn't know what it was. Ginny wouldn't have explained it to her, since she's another 'Daddy's little girl,' like Jenna here," Jonas said, almost dodging the kick aimed at his groin.

Again, he talked with his visitors for a bit, before they left. He settled down, and listened to the WWN, which had never been shut off. The station actually went the next forty five minutes playing only two songs, "In the Presence of Enemies" by Dream Theater, and "2112" by Rush.

As "2112" was winding down, he heard the door to the hospital wing open, and footsteps that made a beeline to his bed. _What is this, Grand Central Station?_ His irritation melted away when his visitor came around the divider.

"Hi. I thought I'd come and see how you were doing," Hermione said softly. Harry wasn't sure it he should be happy or not. In the back of his mind he vaguely recognized the song that was now playing as being some ballad by The Scorpions.

"I've been better," Harry said dryly. In truth, he felt better than he had since before he found out about the love potion.

He suddenly realized what the song was and inwardly groaned, even as Klaus Meine wailed, "_I'm still loving you!_"

Hermione seemed to realize something was bothering Harry besides what Ginny had done. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Oh, it's nothing important," Harry said, knowing that Hermione would press on anyway. He looked up to see her expectant gaze. "Fine, but you'll think I'm crazy."

"At this point that would be like the pot calling the kettle black," Hermione remarked dryly, with a look of nostalgia in her suddenly teary eyes.

"Pardon?" Harry asked. He had a nagging feeling that she was thinking of another one-on-one conversation between them.

"Remember the conversation in the library, just after the Final Battle, the one where you told me you loved me?" Harry looked as if he was struggling to remember. "You asked me what my excuse for not being with the Weasleys was. I told you I was doing some soul searching. When you asked what it was about, I told you that you'd think I was nuts. You told me that would be like the pot calling the kettle black."

"Oh. I'd forgotten that part," Harry said, eyes shining with unshed tears. He took a few moments to compose himself, then looked up and said, "Well, you'll still think I'm crazy. The radio station has been playing songs that...that resonate with my current mood. Yesterday they played 'Innocence Faded,' and I didn't recognize it as our song immediately. I just saw how the lyrics mirrored the situation I found myself in. This morning it was 'It Snows in Hell.' I think you can figure that one out yourself. And now...now it's..."

He waved at the WWN receiver, indicating for Hermione to listen for herself, just as Klaus gave a long, drawn-out, anguished cry of, "_I'm still loving yooouuu!_"

Hermione had tears in her eyes as she looked back to Harry, asking, "Really?"

Harry nodded sadly, saying, "I don't think I ever stopped. Forgotten maybe, but never stopped. And now," his voice cracked, "it can never be as it was. You're with Ron, and I," he paused, blinking back tears, trying to compose himself, and failing utterly, "I-I've got no one."

"Harry, I...I never stopped loving you either. I wish I could say that it would be easy to choose between you or Ron, but it isn't," at this point words failed her. She just wrapped her arms around him, sobbing into his chest. She finally was able to compose herself, if just barely enough to sob, "I just don't know what I'm going to do."

Harry reached out and lifted her chin, to where they were looking each other in the eye. "I'll tell you what you're going to do. You're going to follow your heart. If you do choose Ron, I-I'll survive, somehow," he said, though in his mind he knew he was lying. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her again.

They sat there, staring into each other's eyes, not looking away for several minutes. Slowly, Harry started leaning forward, his mouth moving towards hers. Hermione closed her eyes, her own head moving seemingly of it's own accord to meet him halfway, and as their lips met, a spark ran through them. All of a sudden, the last vestiges of the love potion were wiped from Harry's mind.

As the kiss deepened, Hermione broke free without warning, muttered an apology, and ran. _Great, _Harry thought._ I guess that tells me what her decision is. If only they hadn't taken my wand._ Sleep found Harry contemplating different methods for committing suicide, finding that none of them would work while he was still in the hospital wing.

* * *

Meanwhile, Hermione was roaming the corridors, thinking of what had just happened.

She had just kissed Harry, and it felt like the fights had never happened, she loved him now just as much as she had the day of their wedding. One thought, however, kept returning to the forefront of her consciousness, and it chilled her to think it, but she knew that she could not suppress it forever. She reached her quarters, and the anger that had been building in the last forty-eight hours exploded from her in a burst of wild magic, causing a storm of magic rivaling those which had occurred during the potion induced fights between her and Harry. She looked at the mess, caused by her and her alone in this instance, and allowed herself to embrace the thought she had been denying herself for the last ten minutes. Over and over, she thought that one thought, until it became her mantra.

_Ginny's a dead woman._

* * *

A/N: I thought I was never going to finish this chapter. I only had one event that I wanted to happen, and getting to that point was quite a challenge. The word count for the chapter, not counting the Author's Notes, is 4081. I haven't even been trying to write longer chapters lately, but they are about the perfect length, in my opinion.

For those Americans that don't know get any meaning from the phrase "sixteen stone ten," it means 234 lbs. I rolled the weights of Jonas and Jenna, using the D&D 3.5 Ed. random height and weight adjustments for human male and elf female.

Before I Forget (good song by the way)

Questions? Comments? Plotholes? Just type them up in a review (please), and I'll try to respond to them. I do hope you liked this chapter


	6. Solitary Shell

Disclaimer: Going to war without the French is like going duck hunting without your accordion. Also, lyrics for "A Tout Le Monde" belong to Megadeth

A/N:

All we see and all we seem,  
Is but a dream within a dream.

-Edgar Allen Poe

**Chapter 5: Solitary Shell**

_As a man he was a danger to himself  
Fearful and sad most of the time  
He was drifting in and out of sanity  
But in every other way he was fine_

_-Dream Theater "Solitary Shell"_

The next few days were a blur of depression and memories of that night. He remembered how he and Hermione had kissed for the first time in almost seventeen years; he could still remember how it felt, the way her lips tasted. He remembered how she had pulled away so abruptly, and left the hospital wing in a hurry. _Maybe they'll give me something other than cereal this morning, something requiring a knife and fork...or at the very least a spork._ The whole time he had been in the hospital wing, all he had been given to eat was foods that could be eaten with his fingers.

_Maybe...maybe if I'd never confessed my love to Hermione all those years ago...perhaps I wouldn't be in this situation...yeah, that's right...I wouldn't be in this situation...I'd only be in Azkaban after killing Ron for being with the woman I love..._

He began to shake with silent giggles.

_The universe is just one big joke, isn't it...and if the universe is a joke, then I must be the punch line...I wonder when my breakfast will get here...oh, there it is, right on the nightstand...urgh, Miracle Whip, I _HATE_ Miracle Whip, especially on bacon and tomato sandwiches...yet more proof that the universe is always shitting on me..._

The silent laughter escalated, to the point of audibly snickering from time to time.

_You know, my life would make a great story...well, it would if you removed all the parts where I loved Hermione...I wonder what lunch will be, 'cause I am _not_ going to eat that sandwich...I must figure out how to become a ghost so that when I kill myself I can come back and haunt Ginny..._

Suddenly the occasional snickering became one long, thunderous peal of insane laughter, and he found himself unable to breathe. His vision began to darken at the edges and still he couldn't stop laughing.

_So this is how the great 'Boy-Who-Lived' ends, in a fit of madness..._

As suddenly as it started, the laughing ended. Harry dropped into a state somewhere between death and coma, staring out at the world with unseeing eyes. Madame Midgen-already alarmed by the laughter and now even more alarmed by the sudden end-came running around the barrier at this point. Harry's breath was shallow and his heartbeat faint, weak. He was on the razor's edge of life and death, and there was nothing she could do to help. It was as if he had lost the will to live, and, as powerful as he was, his magic was trying to comply with his death wish. She rushed off to summon his loved ones, and to contact someone with experience in this matter, if such a one existed.

* * *

Hermione was teaching her first class of the day, a sixth year class, the Protean Charm, when the message rang in her ear.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Hermione," said the voice of Eloise Midgen, "but you might want to get down here. Harry's taken a turn for the worse, and he might not survive the day."

"Something urgent has come up and I must go. Homework is an essay, five feet long, on the wand movements and cadence required to successfully cast the Protean Charm, and how casting the charm nonverbally affects those properties," Hermione said as she hurried out the door.

She reached the hospital wing in less than five minutes. She opened the door and ran to Harry's bed. James and Albus were already sitting by their father. She shooed James out of the chair he was sitting in and leaned in close to Harry, saying, "Don't you dare die on me now, Harry." _Especially now that I've made my decision_, she added to herself. She had realized, on her way to the hospital wing, that she couldn't live without him, not anymore, not after he had confessed that he still loved her, not after that kiss. She kissed him on the lips and tried to close his eyes, only to have them open again the instant she removed her hand. She slumped back into the chair James had vacated only moments earlier, tears in her eyes.

"Aunt Hermione," Albus said, "I'm scared."

She looked into those shocking green eyes, _Harry's eyes_, and said, "So am I," as she pulled him into an embrace.

"So am I."

* * *

Harry found himself reliving his life. His life wasn't simply flashing before his eyes; he was actually living it over again. Strangely enough, he found himself unable to change the things that he always told himself that he would if he could do it all over again. His life remained unchanged until...

It was the summer before third year, and on this particular day he found himself out in the garden, pulling weeds, making sure that the grass was all the same height, ignoring the mutterings of passersby about 'that Potter hooligan.' _I know this day. This was the day I met Julie. After I finished my chores I went to the play park where she came up and introduced herself. The rest, as they say, is history._ However, for some reason, instead of going to the play park after his chores, he went to his room. For the rest of his stay with the Dursleys he would catch her flashing him a smile as she passed, but she never approached him. Perhaps it was because they never found themselves meeting in a place where they wouldn't be overheard. And then there was that disastrous dinner with Marge...

* * *

Ron was just preparing to release the boggart into the room when he got the message.

"Ron, Harry is hanging on by a thread. I think it would be best if you were here in the hospital wing with him. Find Jonas and Jenna and bring them with you," Eloise Midgen's voice rang in his ear.

He was stunned. He stood there for more than a minute, his hand resting on the catch of the writing desk the boggart had taken up residence in. He was drawn out of his musings by a third year Slytherin drawling, in a way very reminiscent of Draco Malfoy, "Okay, whose greatest fear is a life-like statue of Professor Weasley preparing to release a boggart?"

Ron was shaken from his stupor and snapped, "Five points from Slytherin. I gotta go. I want a foot on boggarts when we next meet." He rushed to the door, pausing long enough to say, "Class dismissed."

His first stop was the Potions room. The new Potions professor, Professor Eltoora Sarptyl, had refused to teach in the dungeons, so Potions was now taught in one of the previously unused classrooms.

"Excuse me, Professor Sarptyl, but I need to borrow Jonas and Jenna," Ron said. He then turned to the two and said, "Bring your stuff, you probably won't be returning to class."

After getting their homework assignments the twins joined Ron in the corridor. "So what's this about, anyway?" Jenna asked.

Ron sighed heavily as he started off towards the hospital wing, motioning for them to follow him. Finally, he said, with a hoarseness in his voice suggesting that he was trying hard not to cry, "Your dad's not doing well. Madame Midgen said he's 'hanging on by a thread.' She told me to get you and go to the hospital wing." They passed the rest of the trip to the hospital wing in silence, save for the occasional sniffle or sob.

They reached the hospital wing and Jenna rushed to her father's side. Ron walked slowly forwards with Jonas at his side. He came around the barrier only to meet his wife's eyes, and he knew; he knew instantly she had come to the decision he had expected her to come to. _Come on Harry, you've got to keep fighting. If not for yourself, then do it for Hermione._

Ron conjured a chair and joined the vigil.

* * *

Harry continued to relive his life. He'd failed to prevent Wormtail's escape. Now he was in his fourth year at Hogwarts, and, oddly enough, the first task had just ended and he had yet to talk to either of the Patils. _Shouldn't they be 'congratulating' me about now? Oh, wait, that's right. They aren't my girlfriends this time around._ This time around Ron resented him merely for being entered in the Triwizard Tournament. Last time around it had been the fact that Harry was going out with twins, very hot ones at that. Harry felt that Ron had a better reason to hate him last time.

The rest of the year passed, though after the Yule Ball things played out much as they had in the previous timeline, with the Patils resenting him for the next month-unfortunately for Harry, though, this time there was no mind-blowing makeup sex, just grudging indifference.

* * *

Back on the material plane, Madame Midgen had called in the experts, a group of Unspeakables knowledgeable in subconscious magic, a dangerous manifestation of accidental magic more closely related to arcane sorcery than modern wand magic. Rather than manifesting an actual spell, some wizards and witches could actually bend the forces of magic to their will, though the ability to do this consciously had been lost to the ages.

They were in an empty classroom near the hospital wing that had been turned into a private room after Unspeakables arrived.

"Mrs. Weasley, there is nothing more we can do," one of the Unspeakables was saying. "When someone goes into 'magical metabolic shutdown,' they believe that they have relived their life, with a few key differences. From what we have learned from the survivors, those differences are the root cause of whatever the afflicted believes caused their life to become so unbearable that they wish to end it. I know that sounds like a complicated set of circumstances, but it's the truth. I've seen this five times before, and only two of the five survived. They described entire lifetimes, up until the point in their life where the affliction occurred. Their 'alternate lives' played out almost exactly as their original life did, with minor differences." The man smiled sadly, saying, "We'll know by tomorrow morning whether he lives or dies."

"I think I've heard of that. Didn't an American researcher call it Clarence Syndrome?" Hermione asked, momentarily forgetting her grief in the excitement of discussing obscure knowledge.

"Actually she called it a clarencian coma," the Unspeakable corrected. "It's also been called Wonderful Life Disorder and Guardian Angel Psychosis. All terms coined by muggleborns in the last seventy years, believe it or not," he added.

"You said before that you've seen this five times before and two of those times the person survived. What is the survival rate of this...this affliction?

"There are four hundred ninety-eight known cases worldwide in the past two centuries. Counting the two I witnessed," the man paused, seemingly reluctant to finish the thought, " there are a total of six survivors out of all those cases," he finally finished.

"Is there anything anyone can do to help him pull through? Anything at all?" Jenna pleaded, having overheard the end of the conversation. Her normally bright green eyes were currently clouded with tears.

"I'm afraid not, Miss Potter. He has to _want_ to recover. There's just nothing anyone can do if he doesn't want to live," the man said, sadly. "Not much is known about magical metabolic shutdown. We don't even know the reason they relive their lives rather than simply dying."

Hermione walked back over to Harry's bed and sat in the chair near the headboard. She looked over at Jonas and saw something she never expected to see: Jonas, the person whom she could always count on to stay together when things got tough, had his face buried in his palms, his broad shoulders jerking irregularly as sobs wracked his massive frame.

The sight of her normally stoic son openly weeping shook her more than anything had shaken her since the time she and Harry had faced Voldemort on Christmas Eve during the Horcrux hunt.

Suddenly the door burst open, revealing Ginny, her wand drawn and pointed at Hermione.

"Step away from my husband!"

* * *

Harry continued to relive his life. It was now late April of 1996. He never got back with Cho. This life was almost bearable, what with no crabs from Julie and not being called Cedric by a crying Asian girl as she climaxed. Also, Umbridge was slightly more pleasant this time around, having not given Filch permission to hang people by their thumbs, or any other arcane forms of punishment he was always longing for-at least she hadn't _yet_. Still...something was missing. For one he and Hermione weren't as close in this life. And Ron was a bigger asshole than Harry remembered. Furthermore-and he felt that this was the most important downside-he hadn't had a threesome with hot twins.

His efforts to prevent himself from going to save Sirius were proving futile. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't make himself try harder with Occlumency. He couldn't tell his friends to forcibly restrain him if he started talking about Sirius being in danger-couldn't even write them notes telling them this.

And still the days passed.

Before he knew it, the day was upon him. He made sure he had the special galleon with him. Then again, he always carried it in the original timeline, even after Hogwarts. He barely even registered the events of day until he was in the forest, surrounded by Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and Luna. Hermione was telling him to call the DA, and he was trying to agree with her, but despite his best efforts, he couldn't, and just like that his best efforts came to nothing.

* * *

"Step away from my husband!" Ginny repeated.

"Excuse me?" Hermione said. "_Your_ husband? You do know that marriages where one of the participants is under the effects of a love potion during the ceremony are invalid, right?"

Ginny stood there, wand raised, apparently thinking, finally saying, "H-he just need a nudge to make him see that he loved me."

Hermione snorted derisively. "Do you honestly believe what your saying?" she said. "If you honestly believed he loved you, you wouldn't have used Amortentia Minima. All those years of brewing what is widely regarded as the most dangerous potion to brew-just for a _nudge_! Who are you trying to fool here?" Hermione shook her head.

Suddenly a bolt of red energy-a stunning spell-flashed by Hermione's left ear, close enough that her ear went numb. At that instant two things happened. Jonas stood and charged Ginny seizing her wand and snapping it like a twig between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand. Hermione shouted, "That's it. I wasn't going to do this, but you leave me no choice.

"I Hermione Jean Granger Weasley, do hereby challenge one Ginevra Molly Weasley Potter to an honor duel, at the time and place of her choosing," Hermione said, glacially calm.

Ginny snapped back, "Halloween, astronomy tower, sundown," and stormed out of the room.

Hermione suddenly became aware of a soft voice speaking, as if reciting poetry. _That sounds like Harry...reciting the lyrics of...Oh, no! No, no, no, no, NO!_ No one's lips were moving, not even Harry's. Harry himself was surrounded by a faint pink glow, his hair fluttering in nonexistent air currents. And still the words came, seemingly coming from the air itself.

_So as you read this, know my friends  
I'd love to stay with you all  
Please smile when you think about me  
My body's gone, that's all_

* * *

Harry found himself jolted back to the clearing in the forest. He knew what was coming, and sure enough a long mane of silvery blond hair fell around his face as Narcissa Malfoy queried as to the fate of her son.

As he was being carried to the castle, he thought of how this life compared to the previous one. So far, it was slightly better than the previous. And yet...something was missing. The previous year, when he had gone out with Ginny, he had not felt love for her, merely protectiveness and mild affection, though that month and a half was the best he experienced in this new timeline. He remembered Hermione's expression when he declined her offer to help him relieve his stress, all those month's ago. And though it didn't hurt to assure Ron that nothing happened-or could ever happen-between himself and Hermione, there was still a vague yet profound emptiness that tolled like a bell within him every time he said it.

He went through the motions of the battle, letting it play out as it would. He had recently come to the realization that he would not be able to change any major events, leaving him free to think at these moments. Suddenly the battle was over, the dead collected for burial, the wounded being tended to. Harry considered going to find Hermione, but thought better of it and went to comfort Ginny instead.

Yet again the emptiness tolled within.

* * *

It was now almost midnight of day two, and after almost thirty-eight hours, Harry had yet to wake, though the air continued to speak in his voice, reciting the lyrics of the same song, over and over again. One of the Unspeakables had assured them that the ethereal recitation meant nothing. The first two times he had seen this affliction he had cast _rennervate_ on the subject. The first one had recited "Annabelle Lee" and survived, and second had spent the next sixteen hours reciting the published works of William Shakespeare, in chronological order, until he eventually died.

Ron had come over to talk to her shortly after Ginny left. Hermione had thought that he was going to try to convince her to reconsider her challenge, even though she couldn't, not after a formal challenge was made. Instead, he reminded her that in an honor duel the Unforgivables were permissible.

Shortly after dinner George had arrived with Lily and Hugo. Hugo was sleeping in the chair next to Hermione, and Lily was sitting in James's lap, having cried herself to sleep when she learned what was going on.

And still Harry was not awake. The Unspeakable had told her that the time spent in the coma had no correlation as to the chances of survival...at least, he thought so, anyway. Hermione sat back and sighed heavily. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally, and yet she still couldn't sleep. She was just too worried about Harry.

_These are the last words  
I'll ever speak  
They'll set me free_

* * *

The next nineteen years passed quickly. During the years corresponding with his marriage to Hermione, the emptiness within him rang nonstop. It filled his days. It drowned out his dreams. Whenever he thought of Jonas or Jenna, the ringing threatened to drive him mad. When he married Ginny, the ringing caused by the sight of Hermione as the maid of honor caused him to black out. Not his body, but the detached part of himself that still remembered the previous timeline. He couldn't remember anything that happened on 12 May, every year starting in 2000.

And so the years passed, until he found himself sending Albus and James off to Hogwarts. It played out much as he remembered, minus asking Hermione about the progeny they never had. Additionally he was not planning on teaching at Hogwarts. As he turned to leave, everyone disappeared from Platform 9 3/4. Two trains appeared, one bound for 'The Elysian Fields,' the other bound for Hogwarts-at least that's what the departures board said.

"Not again," Harry muttered. He looked down, and was relieved to find that he had remained clothed this time, at least.

"Back again, I see," came a familiar voice.

Harry turned to see Dumbledore, wearing the familiar grandfatherly smile. "So, this is just like what happened when I faced Voldemort in the clearing?" Harry asked, gesturing to indicate the platform surrounding him.

"Yes, and no. Now you have a decision to make. You have three options. You can go through the barrier to Kings Cross and join your wife, and pick up where you left off in the timeline you just went through; you can take the train to Hogwarts and rejoin the original timeline, or you can take the train to the Elysian Fields, a paradise reserved for heroes such as yourself. It is your choice," Dumbledore said.

"So it was real, the way I relived my life?" Harry asked, not sure which answer he was hoping for.

"Yes, it was quite real. But unless you choose that reality, it will dissolve back into nothingness. Your original timeline will remain, regardless, but unless you choose to rejoin it, your body will die," Dumbledore said, and Harry thought he could detect a hint of sadness in his voice.

"If I choose to join the timeline I just lived..." Harry trailed off, not sure how to word his question.

"You will remember nothing of your original lifetime," Dumbledore said reassuringly, though Harry thought he could still detect that hint of sadness in his voice.

"Does that mean the empty feeling inside of me will go away?" Harry asked hopefully.

"I'm afraid not. It may be less severe, but it will never go away. It will always seem as if something important is missing, but you will never know what," Dumbledore said. "You see, what you feel for Hermione is not something that can ever truly be taken from you."

"And if I choose to return to my original reality?" Harry asked, determined to know the consequences of each decision.

"You will have vague memories of the previous reality for the next week, and after that you will forget everything about it except that it happened. You will retain memories of this conversation for far longer, but you will not remember exactly what was said," Dumbledore explained.

"One more thing before I go. Why did I relive my life instead of just shifting into a new reality, or simply dying?" Harry asked.

"You did not die because it is not yet your time. And there was no guarantee that changing what you saw as the cause of your situation would actually fix it. While you could choose to leave for the Elysian Fields, you would have to have sure of your decision. Any trace of doubt and you would not be taken there," Dumbledore said.

Harry nodded thoughtfully. He mulled over his decision for a few moments. _If I choose the new timeline, I'll forget all about what Ginny put me through in the original timeline. Or I could choose the Elysian Fields and forget this whole mess ever happened._ He continued to weigh his options for another few minutes.

Finally, he said, "I've made my decision." There was a hint of fatalism in his voice.

"Are you sure?" Dumbledore asked.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," Harry said over his shoulder as he walked over to the trains.

He climbed aboard the train representing his choice and it pulled away. He looked back and he thought he saw tears in Dumbledore's eyes, but it could easily have been the late headmaster's usual twinkle, but he would never know exactly which it was.

* * *

A/N: Yes, a cliffhanger. I know, I know, I'm evil. I have the next chapter done and I'll post it soon.

I know the chapter seems kind of fractured, but that's intentional. I didn't go into great details about the 'new' timeline because the events are the same ones from the timeline from the books, just from a slightly different perspective, with more introspection on how my timeline differs from the books.

Questions? Comments? Plotholes? Just put them in a review and I'll try to respond to them.


	7. About to Crash Reprise

Disclaimer: Am I evil? Yes I am. Dream Theater lyrics belong to Dream Theater. I don't Harry Potter or the Harry Potter universe. Wish I did, but my 3rd level dwarf sorcerer doesn't know that spell.

**Chapter 6: About to Crash (Reprise)**

_I'm alive again  
The darkness lies behind me  
I'm invincible  
Despair will never find me_

_-Dream Theater "About to Crash (Reprise)"_

The train traveled for what seemed like several hours. Just as he began to ponder what to expect when the train reached its destination, a tunnel loomed ahead. As blackness swallowed the train, Harry woke to see everyone sitting around moping. He sat up and asked, "Who died?"

The world disappeared behind a curtain of brown hair as the air was forced from his lungs. "Let him breathe, Hermione. He just cheated death for crying out loud!" He heard Ron exclaim.

Already memories of his second chance were beginning to fade, along with his vision of the here and now. It was almost a minute before she relaxed her grip enough that he could breath normally. He sat there for a few seconds catching his breath before he flipped on the WWN receiver and struggled to contain a laugh at the song playing at the moment. It was "Dead Again" by Type O Negative. Try as he might, he couldn't restrain the chuckle that escaped his lips.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, her voice muffled by his neck.

"Nothing," he said. Hermione pulled back far enough to stare at him.

Harry gave an exasperated sigh and waved at the receiver. "It's just that this is the second time I've 'died' and returned to the land of the living." He looked back up at her eyes. "You think I'm crazy don't you?"

Hermione was about to respond when Ron said, "I know I've told you my theory on sanity before. Sanity is an illusion. Everyone is crazy; it's just a matter of how crazy you are. Normality is the same wa-"

Hermione cut him off mid-syllable, "Yes, well, that's quite enough from you," Hermione said. "It's times like this that I wonder if the last fourteen years may have actually had a negative effect on you, Ron," she continued, smirking, though her eyes had not left Harry's.

Harry smiled, saying, "I know what you mean." He turned to Ron, "Sometimes I miss Ron the idiot, too," Ron scowled at this, "but not often."

Harry looked around at those gathered. He saw Jonas standing off to the side, near Jenna and another girl. He continued to sweep the room and saw the male Weasleys scattered throughout; at the foot of his bed he saw James, Albus, and Lily; Ron was near his head on the right, with Neville on the left. What surprised him most was the woman seated next to Neville. She was a pale woman, with huge silvery eyes. He had always felt that she was possessed of a haunting beauty, but now all he could think of when he looked into her eyes was how haunted she looked. He was about to ask her if she was okay when his eyes fell once more on his oldest daughter, and realized that something about the way she looked had been bothering him. In that same instant he knew what it was.

To someone who didn't know Jenna's secret, it looked like her friend was lending her moral support. Harry didn't doubt that that was part of what was going on, but he knew instantly that this girl was closer to his daughter than any mere friend.

* * *

_It was just over a year ago, a couple of days after the end of her fifth year, Jenna had flooed over to visit him. She asked if they could speak in private, and they retired to his study. She seemed nervous, reluctant to speak._

_Harry decided to break the silence. "Is there something wrong?"_

_This was apparently the wrong thing to say. She froze, not moving a muscle, barely even breathing; her eyes were wide with surprise-or was it fear? "Wrong?" she squeaked. She cleared her throat and this time her voice almost came out right, "What makes you thing that something's wrong?"_

_"Well for one thing, you seem nervous and jumpy," he grinned here. It was a toothy grin, predatory. "For another, no one ever asks that when nothing is wrong." His grin faded and was replaced by an expression of concern. "But seriously, tell me what's going on." He patted the space next to him on the couch he had in his study. It was an old-fashioned leather couch, hard as a rock with the leather pulled tight by buttons, more like a leather covered bench than a couch. Harry had never liked it, but Ginny had insisted upon it. He did have to admit that it looked nice, but he still wondered what the point was in owning furniture that no one wanted to use. _

_"Could you put a privacy charm on the room, please?" Jenna asked. She still seemed reluctant to tell him what was bothering her._

_"There already is. It's permanent; since Ginny can't stand the music I listen to. She even called Dream Theater-and I quote-'instrumental wankery,'" he shook his head. "So anyway, enough stalling, out with it; what's eating you?"_

_She seemed to flush at the turn of phrase, but he thought nothing of it. They sat there for a few minutes with nothing being said. Harry was prepared to wait her out. She had always turned to him first with her problems. He was drawn from his reverie by his daughter stirring next to him, gathering her determination. He waited for a few more seconds until..._

_"Ithinkimightbealesbian." It came out as one word. _

_For a moment Harry thought he'd misunderstood. All he could say was, "Pardon?"_

_His oldest daughter, his pride and joy, hesitated and when she spoke up again it was in a weak, almost scared voice. "I said that I...I think I m-might be a...be a l-lesbian," this last word was whispered._

_He was at a loss for words. When he didn't say anything for over a minute and a half she said in a quiet voice, "When you disown me, could you at least come up with an excuse that doesn't involve outing me to the public?" She stood to leave._

_Harry finally found his voice. "Why the hell would I disown you?"_

_She stopped halfway to the door. "I don't know, but you'll think of something. I have faith in you." She continued towards the door._

_"No, that's not what I meant, and you know it," he said, causing her to stop again, her hand resting on the door handle. "Why would I disown you just because your type happens to be the same as your brother's?"_

_She looked lost and confused, almost as if she was expecting anger and spite, and their absence was throwing her off. "Maybe because you're embarr-"_

_"Why should I be?" Harry asked evenly. "Luna, my best friend that happens to not be a Weasley or your mother, thought she was a lesbian for years until she met her husband. I never-_never-_thought any less of her for it, nor do I think any less of you. You are what you are. You just have to live with it," he enfolded his daughter in a comforting embrace. _

_"Could you not tell anyone about this?" Jenna asked. She was weeping with relief._

_"You know you can trust me," Harry said. He suddenly had a thought. He held his daughter at arms length and favored her with a mischievous grin. "Only one problem with you being a lesbian, and it is a major one."_

_He paused here, waiting for her to react. When she didn't rise to the bait, he continued. "The problem is really quit simple. It's a well-known fact that fathers of teenage girls take perverse pleasure in threatening their daughter's boyfriends whenever they first meet them. I can't very well make the same threats to another teenage girl. I do feel cheated that I don't get to have that experience with you, especially since you're my favorite," Harry said, meaning every word, and he could tell that she knew he was telling the truth. "Just do me a favor and don't tell the rest of them I said that that, since as a parent I'm not supposed to have favorites."_

* * *

Harry pulled himself from his remembrances and greeted the pale, blond woman with the silvery eyes. "It's good to see you again, Luna. It's been what, ten years?" Those haunted eyes softened as she leaned in to give him a friendly embrace, but the haunted expression returned full force after she pulled back.

"Eleven, actually," she said, barely sounding herself. Her voice was lacking that dreamy quality that made her such an intriguing person. Something bad must have happened, as Harry couldn't remember a time when she'd sounded so...so _normal_. Normal by most people's standards, that is. Strangely, or maybe not so strangely, she sounded weirder like this. Neville seemed a little uncomfortable standing next to her, but Harry wondered how much of that was the expression on her face and how much was the effect she'd always had on him.

"How's your husband, er, what's-his-name?" Harry asked. He'd only met the guy once, at their wedding, and he hadn't liked him. Harry thought that the guy had been a bit of an ass.

Hermione started to correct Harry, when Luna rounded on her, eyes flashing with anger, voice dripping with bitterness, "Don't you _dare_ say that...that fucking bastard's name in my presence!" Everyone who'd known her when she was younger was startled by her use of such language.

"W-What happened?" Hermione asked, taken aback. "I don't mean to be rude, but perhaps you should vent."

Luna seemed to calm down a little bit. "Well, shortly after we moved to Boise-it's in the U.S.-he started to become distant. He would say he was going out with friends and come back smelling like he had just showered," she said, still sounding bitter but not taking it out on anybody. "I thought this was odd. After about six months of him doing this at least once a week, I started putting tracking charms on him every time he left the house. He always found them-until a week ago. I guess he got careless, it doesn't really matter," she paused, taking a deep breath.

"He was in bed with another woman," she paused, shaking her head, wiping tears from her eyes. "He said it was an accident, as if he'd tripped and there just happened to be a naked woman to break his fall!"

Harry found the hair on his neck standing on end, and he knew that Luna was dangerously close to critical mass. Luna was perhaps the second most powerful witch of their generation, after Hermione, and Harry was afraid that if she didn't calm down soon he would find himself lying on a large, not so fresh ocean fish. He remembered the last time it happened, back at the end of his first marriage.

The magic in the air continued to build, and all Harry could think to say was, "Please don't turn my bed into a rotting fish!"

That had the desired effect. Magic in the room dropped to normal levels, while Luna looked down at him with a puzzled look on her face. When she spoke she sounded like her old self, even through the puzzlement, "Why would I do that?"

Harry snuck a glance around the room. Ron, Hermione and Neville were shaking with silent laughter, Jenna was whispering into her "friend's" ear, Jonas was grinning at him, and the rest were looking at him with various looks of puzzlement. Seeing that no one else was willing to explain, he sighed and said, "It's just that the last time I was this close to a woman who was this angry about her crumbling marriage, while at the same time laying in bed, I ended up laying on a grouper, and it wasn't exactly fresh. I was so tired I had to take the twins and spend the night at Neville's flat. Crookshanks wouldn't leave the room during that last month that he was there."

This made Luna smile, even coaxed a little chuckle from her lips-something Harry had not thought her capable of. As far back as Harry could remember Luna had always been dead serious, with the occasional laughing fits that scared most people. "You're kidding," she said.

Hermione was shaking her head. "No," she said through the laughter, "he's not." Luna just shook her head.

Hermione paused, almost wistful. "It did make the make-up sex awkward though," she said.

Her four children chorused, "Mo-om!" to which Jenna added, "I cannot believe you just said that!" Harry's three from his marriage to Ginny just made faces.

Harry noticed the incredulous looks on the faces of the adults and said, "It's true. Between the smell-you wouldn't believe how difficult it is to get rid of the smell of a magically produced fish-between the smell and the cat staring at me from the nightstand, I had trouble getting it up-much less keeping it up." He had the pleasure of seeing his oldest daughter run shrieking from the room, her face almost the color of her hair, the other girl, Jonas, Rose, Lily, Hugo, Albus and James following close at her heels. He couldn't help but laugh.

"So what'd I miss while I was...out of it?" Harry asked. He had almost said 'dead to the world,' but thought better of it at the last instant.

Hermione hesitated. "Well..."

"Hermione challenged Ginny to an honor duel, for one thing," Ron interrupted.

"When was this?" Luna asked.

"Night before last," Ron replied.

"Oh, please tell me this duel involves naked mud wrestling!" Harry exclaimed half seriously. Noticing the strange looks he got-mostly from the Weasleys-he added, "It'd kinda boring if it was just a straight up duel of magical prowess. Not to mention very, very short."

There was an awkward silence, broken only by the sound of people shifting in their seats. Harry suddenly realized that Hermione had not moved from his lap since he'd woken.

"So, anyway, how long was I out for?" Harry asked.

"About fifty-three hours," came a voice from the door.

Harry turned to look and saw Eloise Midgen trailed by an unfamiliar elderly man. The man wore a badge identifying him as Patrick Ferguson, Department of Mysteries.

"So what'd you do to scare those kids, anyway? The first two were shrieking like Voldemort himself was on their heels-and I've never seen anyone run like that in high heels before," Eloise said. She shook her head, "The others at least weren't running, but they were definitely in a hurry to get away."

The man standing behind her cleared his throat. "Oh, and this is Patrick Ferguson. He's an expert on subconscious magic from the department of Mysteries. He'd like to ask you a few questions before I move you back to the regular hospital wing."

"Do I have a choice?" Harry asked.

"Not really, no. Asking you was just a formality," the man said.

"Then let's get this over with."

Two hours later Harry was returned to the hospital wing. The questioning had been grueling, and the man hadn't stopped until Harry had snapped and started cussing him out in every language he knew. All he wanted to do was sleep. But Eloise had other ideas for him. The squib psychiatrist had arrived that morning, and for the next hour the psychiatrist, a rather attractive woman of Middle Eastern descent who'd introduced herself as Sally, asked him a few questions about what had transpired over the last nineteen years, but mostly whenever he finished an anecdote, she'd ask him what he thought about it or how he felt about it. In the end she gave him prescriptions for an antidepressant and an anti-psychotic.

Only after Sally had left did Eloise give him one final checkup, and pronounced him stable enough to return to his quarters-as long as he had someone with him at all times.

Harry got his daughter to escort him back to his quarters. Her 'friend' was still following silently in her wake. When the door to Harry's apartment shut behind him he gave the girl an appraising look. She was tall-taller than Harry-with jet-black hair, and a dark complexion. She looked vaguely familiar.

"Dad," Jenna said nervously, "this is Carrie-"

"Jordan, right?" Harry asked the girl.

She nodded. "How could you tell?" she asked, her voice still not quite mature. Not surprising, since she was about two years younger than Jenna.

"I knew your mother...biblically," he said and enjoyed the seeing her shift uncomfortably.

"_Da-a-ad_!" Jenna whined.

"What I was going to say before my rude daughter interrupted me is that you have her eyes, and her lips," he said. He turned serious. "My condolences, by the way," he added.

Just over a year before, Padma and Parvati had been in India visiting relatives when the turmoil in the Middle East that had burned Mecca and much of Israel to a radioactive crisp spilled over into the subcontinent. The first suicide bomb went off across the street from the cafe where they were eating lunch. Shrapnel had sliced through Parvati's throat, bleeding her out long before emergency services ever reached the cafe. Padma had survived, though she was now paralyzed from the waist down. Her right arm had had to be amputated just above the wrist, and her left hand was missing most of its index and ring fingers, and all of the middle finger. If she had just been gotten to a healer soon enough, her injuries could have been fixed without leaving a mark. Unfortunately, severed and amputated limbs did not grow back, and after a day, not even magic can restore feeling to paralyzed limbs.

"Mother always considered death to be just another new beginning," the girl said.

"By the way, I'm sorry if my comment about 'knowing' your mother upset you," Harry said. He had honestly forgotten for that instant about what had happened to Parvati.

"Not at all. Mother always spoke very highly of you. She was very proud to have known you...biblically," Carrie responded, a hint of a smile gracing her delicate features.

They adjourned to his sitting room. As soon as they were all sitting comfortably, he turned to Carrie once more and said, "Now, about you dating my daughter," he said.

Carrie shot Jenna a startled look. Jenna gave her a look that said either _I didn't tell him,_ or_ I don't know what he's talking about_.

"What makes you think we're going out, Dad?" Jenna asked weakly.

"Well for one, your body language isn't that of two friends sitting together. Close, very close, but there are a few subtle clues, such as the fact you've been holding hands since we left the hospital wing, and the way you were leaning against Carrie when I woke up-you were too comfortable," Harry said.

"Wow, you figured it out just from that?" Carrie marveled.

"I had a hunch. I wasn't sure until after I asked about it. You see, Jenna is a horrible liar," Harry said. "Whenever she's put on the spot about something, she asks the person putting her on the spot 'what makes you think etc.'" he pitched his voice to a vague imitation of Jenna's voice, "What makes you think we're dating? What makes you think I stole ten galleons from your money pouch? What makes you think _I_ switched Ginny's birth control with laxatives? You get the picture."

"So what would you have done if you were wrong?" Carrie asked.

"Well, first I would have paused awkwardly, wondering how I misread the signs, then I would have wondered whether or not Jenna had already told you she was a lesbian, while at the same time trying to turn the whole thing into a joke, most likely failing miserably, resulting in me altering your memory so you didn't remember the conversation," he paused. "I glad I didn't have to take that route, as I've never quite mastered memory charms. Last time I used it-this was still during auror training, mind you-all I wanted to do was make a muggle informant forget that he gave information. His identity was completely erased; all he knew how to do was drive. Last I heard he was working on a muggle television program about cars. Of course that was almost five years ago. The program has since been canceled."

"I'm glad you're right too," the girl said as she put her arm around Jenna and gave her a one armed hug.

The three of them talked for the next hour, though for the most part it was Harry telling embarrassing stories about Jenna, with Jenna hiding her face in her hands, begging Harry to stop. Hermione and Ron showed up at the end of the hour, and for another hour after that they told their own embarrassing stories about Jenna, until she finally couldn't take anymore and left with Carrie.

"So that's her girlfriend?" Hermione asked.

Harry didn't know what to say. "What makes you think that?" he said weakly.

"Well for one, you have the same tell as her, and for another, they were too touchy feely to be just friends," Hermione said.

"H-how did you know that she-"

"Was a lesbian? I found a porno magazine under her mattress this summer. There wasn't a single picture of a man to be found in it," Hermione said.

"Wait," Harry said, "she's only seventeen. Either the store she got it from forgot to check her ID, or she stole it."

"It wasn't a muggle magazine, Harry," she said in an exasperated tone.

"Oh," Harry said. "So you don't have a problem with Jenna being a lesbian?" Harry asked.

"No, but I am wondering why you don't seem surprised," Hermione said.

"She told me herself last summer," Harry replied.

Hermione huffed, but she didn't push the subject. Though it didn't seem fair that both of her daughters were closer to their respective fathers than they were to her, she had gotten over it a long time ago.

"Anyway, I had a reason for bringing Ron along. I've made my decision. Ron, you know I love you, I really do, but I love Harry more." Hermione said, voice cracking with emotion.

"Though I can't honestly say I'm happy about it, I would've been surprise if you'd made any other decision," Ron said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get reacquainted with my right hand." With that he stood and left.

"I feel kind of bad for him," Harry said after the door had closed on his best friend.

Hermione leaned in for a kiss, "You shouldn't," she said just before their lips met, her voice a silky purr.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and why is that," he muttered against her lips.

"I'll show you why."

And she did. All night long.

* * *

A/N: I hope you like it. There's only one chapter left before the epilogue, or rather Grand Finale. So has anyone guessed where the chapter titles came from yet? I mean other than "Some Dream Theater songs." It will probably be a while before I get the next chapter done, though I can say it will probably focus on Ginny, or at least feature her more prominently than previous chapters.

And to answer people who wonder where my info about Bipolar comes from, I'm Bipolar, I have a cousin who's Bipolar, and I've read up on Bipolar. Though it's rare, some people with Bipolar can go from depressive to manic and back to depressive rather quickly.

Questions? Comments? Plotholes? Just type them up in a review and I'll try to get back to you.


	8. Losing Time

Disclaimer: Something something something does not belong to me, something something make no money from it.

**Chapter 7: Losing Time**

_She dresses in black everyday  
She keeps her hair simple and plain  
She never wears makeup  
But no one would care if she did anyway_

_-Dream Theater "Losing Time / Grand Finale"_

For the next month and a half, Hermione barely spoke to anyone. When she wasn't teaching or at meals, she was sequestered in her quarters, working on something she wouldn't tell anyone about.

"Harry, can I have a sample of your blood?" Hermione asked after class was over, eight days after Harry woke from his coma.

"What do you need it for?" Harry inquired. "If you don't mind me asking, that is."

"Can't tell you, but it's vitally important for my plans for the upcoming duel," Hermione said distractedly.

"At least give me a hint," pleaded Harry. As Hermione opened her mouth to protest, Harry added, "If you give me a hint, I'll give you the blood."

"Oh, alright, fine," Hermione sighed resignedly, "Let's just say you don't want James, Albus, or Lily to see the duel, and if all goes right, you may never want them to see Ginny again..."

Harry rolled up his sleeve, trying not to imagine the grisly fate that awaited his ex 'wife.'

Two days later Harry got another unexpected visitor. "I _told_ you Weaselette was bad news," Draco Malfoy drawled as Harry entered his office.

"How'd you get in here?" Harry said, shooing his visitor out of his chair.

"What, no, 'Glad to see you?' No, 'How have you been, old friend?' Where _are_ your manners today?" Draco smirked, taking the seat across from Harry.

"Sorry, I've just been a little tired lately. Cheating death takes a lot out of you. So why weren't you at the deathbed vigil?" Harry asked.

"I came by, but you know how the Weasley's feel about me. It doesn't matter that I left the House of Malfoy and swore loyalty to the House of Potter, they'll always see me as the arrogant, blood purist, Death Eater wannabe asshole that nearly killed Dumbledore-"

"We both know you never came close to killing him," interrupted Harry.

"Doesn't matter to them. Anyway I showed up and apparently missed you waking up by ten minutes," Draco said.

"Well, at least Jonas thought to contact you. I just don't get it. Jonas trusts you, so why don't the Weasley's?" Harry shook his head.

"You know and I know that he only trusts me because he knows that I know that if I try anything on you, Hermione, or the Weasleys, that he'll break me in two-literally," Draco said.

"He'd be well within his right as the Potter family Archon," Harry replied, referring to the title usually given to the heir apparent of the Ancient and Most Noble Houses. The Archon of an Ancient and Most Noble House in theaory shared the responsibilities of the Head of House, but often in practice the Archon of Light side and Neutral houses carried out the distasteful duties of the Head of House, such as disciplining Family Members and other sworn subjects of the Head of House. It was a practice that most familes had begun to abolish, but one Harry personally favored. He believed that if Jonas were given relative autonomy to carry out the more cruel deeds-which Harry left to his oldest son's discretion for now, but he had plans for tightening the leash in the coming years-he would be more reluctant to order them when he was the Head of House. That was the theory anyway, though Harry wasn't entirely sure whether or not the duties were actually hardening the gentle giant. But that was a worry for another time.

"I don't just mean that it would be within his rights-it'd be well within his abilities to do so. He's scarier than you ever were, you know," Draco said. His face took on a thoughtful expression, "Or maybe I'm just getting older," he added.

"You've cetainly gotten wiser since you were his age, Draco," Harry responded. "Before I forget, How's the wife?"

"Pansy's the same as always, though perhaps a little upset that Scorpius is in Ravenclaw, rather than Slytherin. I never saw that coming, to be certain," he shook his head.

"There are always flukes, like Neville's oldest being sorted into Slytherin two years ago," Harry pointed out.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot about Francis. How is he, anyway?" Draco asked. While Neville hadn't been as forgiving at first as Harry-not that any of Harry's friends had been as forgiving as Harry himself-he had been willing to give Draco the benefit of the doubt.

"He's been doing good-aside from being the bane of Filch's existence, that is. He makes the Weasley twins look like Abbott and Costello-like a pair of bumbling fools, that is. So why was it you came here again...Oh, that's right. You came to say 'I told you so.' Save it. I've gotten that same line at least once a day since the coma.

"Actually, I just came to pay respects to my liege in his time of distress," Draco said. "My wife and I are there if you need us. Also, Pansy told me to tell you she could get you a date with her little sister if you wan-"

"I think I'll pass. For one, she's barely older than my daughter. For another, I wouldn't want to do anything to encourage her. She's bad enough in class as it is," Harry shuddered.

"Oh...right. Pansy neglected to remind me about that little detail," Draco said standing to leave. "Well, in that case, I must take my leave. You know how to get ahold of me should something come up. I'll be seeing you around then."

"I do appreciate the sentiment, though, Draco," Harry said to his former nemesis, now a trusted advisor concerning the affairs of the House of Potter.

"One last thing, before you leave," Harry said as the blond wizard reached for the doorknob. "What was with the look you gave me on Platform 9 3/4?"

"Oh, I was just having a bad day, that's all," replied Draco.

"Mind if I ask why?"

"It's personal."

"Well, anyway, take care."

Ginny was frantically searching through any books she could get her hands on for spells she could use in the imminent duel. She already searched the Black library, the Weasley library (such as it was) and wasted two days searching the books in Harry's study for anything useful-and half of that time was spent leafing through a book titled _The Complete Arcane_. Unfortunately, though there were numerous fantastically powerful spells listed in it, the incantations were apparently bespelled to prevent anyone but Harry from reading them-and the spellwork for that was nothing short of remarkable, considering she could find no evidence of any concealment charms.

She was at wit's end. Sure, she could turn into a fox at will, but that wouldn't help her up on the astronomy tower. _Stupid, Stupid, Stupid!_ Perhaps she could turn herself in to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement? No, that wouldn't work-she'd still have to fight the duel and even if she won she'd be sent straight to Azkaban.

Now she was searching through every bookstore in Diagon and Knockturn Alley for anything that might contain spells that would help her against Hermione. She knew she would never manage an Unforgivable against Hermione, since, as much as she disliked the woman for stealing Harry from her, she was still unable to think of her as an enemy, as someone she could kill. She'd learned, from one of the first books she'd read in the Black library, that you _REALLY_ had to mean the killing curse-particularly if the target was someone you knew, otherwise fond memories of the target were likely to interfere with the intent.

_I'm so dead. But I mustn't give up..._

* * *

As the days passed, reports of sounds resembling a blacksmith's shop were reported coming from Hermione's quarters, though the reports stopped shortly after the beginning of October.

During this time, Hermione would appear quite flushed every time she left her quarters. She was evasive when anyone asked her what she was doing, and observers sometimes described her as 'grim yet chipper,' when they caught her in unguarded moments.

All too soon, Halloween came. The Astronomy tower was literally sealed off. An hour before sundown, Hermione was making sure she had what she needed. _I've got my wand, I've got my 'special' surprise for Ginny_. A mischievous grin spread across her face. _I wonder if there's time for...no, better not. I don't think Ginny and the duel overseer would appreciate having to wait while Harry and I have hot monkey sex._

* * *

The sky had been overcast all day, and as Hermione walked out onto the top of the Astronomy tower, the skys opened up, rain coming down in sheets. The duel overseer looked at her disapprovingly. "Cutting it awful close, aren't we?"

"Sorry," Hermione said.

The duel overseer held her gaze for a moment more before saying, "Now that both participants are here, I'll explain the rules. In an Honor Duel, there is no restriction on the spells you are allowed to cast, but if an unforgivable strikes a bystander you can be brought up on charges. Therefore, spectators are not allowed at these...events. I am more of an observer than an overseer in this case. Now, when the clock strikes the hour, you will begi-"

He was interrupted by the clock tower chiming.

"You'll need this," Hermione said, tossing a silvery-red dagger to her opponent. Ginny just cocked an eyebrow at her.

"_Imperio_," cried Hermione.

The redheaded woman was caught square in the chest by the curse. Slowly, as if pushing through wet sand, she reached for blade at her feet. As soon as she picked it up, she brought it to her left ear, and pushed her rain-soaked hair away, before she, in a single, fluid motion, sliced her ear off. Eerily silent, she then brought the tip to her left eye and delicately popped it out of socket, letting it hang for a few heartbeats before deftly slicing the optic nerve. As she moved the knife to her next target, she stepped on the eye, popping it with a sickening squelch. She then sliced all her fingers-including her thumb-off of her right hand. Still not done, she brought the blade to where her lower abdomen met her pubic area and impaled herself on the bade, destroying her womb. Blood streaming from several wounds, she brought the knife back to her face one last time and slowly, agonizingly, sliced off her own nose.

Hermione, satisfied with the results, released Ginny from the curse, whereupon the redhead immediately fell to her knees began to shriek in agony. Still, she continued to fight, or at least try to. Brandishing her wand in her left hand, she slowly rose to her feet, hoarsely crying, "_Redu-_"

She was cut off as Hermione cast an unknown spell whose effects made it seem a poorly cast cutting curse, but no one really knew what it was for sure, since she cast it silently. The spell caught Ginny on the left collar bone, slicing all the way through to her back, but apparently cauterizing the wound at the same time. The redhead's left arm fell useless to her side.

They stood there for a moment staring at each other. Finally, Ginny shrieked, "GO AHEAD, KILL ME! END IT ALL NOW!" The sound echoed oddly in the rain.

Hermione stared straight back at the woman she had once called her friend, her eyes burning with furious rage.

"No," she said, so coldly that the ministry observer shivered.

"What's the matter? Haven't got the guts?" Ginny goaded.

"Take a look at yourself. It would be an act of mercy to kill you now," Hermione responded.

"'Tis just a flesh wound," Ginny said mockingly. "Nothing a few potions won't heal."

Hermione shook her head, "Tsk, tsk, tsk. You don't think I'd force you to mutilate you for your own funeral, now would you? That knife has a few..._special_ enchantments applied to it. The wounds it gave you cannot be healed by muggle or magical means. However, when you die, which you can no longer do by suicide-another of the enchantments placed on the knife-all such wounds will disappear, you will be whole again. However, you can only die of natural causes. You cannot be murdered. You heal too quickly for that, and any sort of magic used to kill you will never quite do the trick, at least not permanently."

She paused, a sorrowful look on her face. "You are, for all intents and purposes, a zombie-albeit one with a heartbeat and conscious thoughts. A day will not pass where you don't think of where you went wrong. Consider it my gift to you, on behalf of Harry, for what you put him through.

"So, since you cannot be killed that leaves just one thing left to do. _Stupefy!_" and with that the youngest of the Generation X Weasley's collapsed into a pool of her own blood mixed with rainwater, the wounds that spilled it already closed.

With that last spell, sixteen years of anger, bitterness and resentment burned out of her, leaving her relieved, if a little sad for what she'd done to a woman she had until just two months ago called a friend.

* * *

An hour later found Hermione sitting in her bathtub leaning against Harry's muscular chest. She had just finished recounting the story of the duel.

"Remind me never to leave you of my own volition," Harry muttered, somewhere between awe and horror.

"I think I might be able to do that..." Hermione purred, turning around in his arms.

* * *

Ginevra Molly Weasley woke in the Spell Damage ward of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies. The first sight that assaulted her eye-just the one-was the lime green robes of a healer. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Potter-"

"It's Weasley," Ginny croaked sorrowfully.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Weasley, but we couldn't break the charms, meaning your eye, ear, and nose will never grow back, nor will your fingers ever return. Your womb has been destroyed permanently. We were, however, able to restore your left arm," the man paused, "It was the best we could do, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Ginny sighed. "I deserved what I got."

"What do you mean by that, Ms...Weasley," the healer said.

"I loved a man who would never love me back, and I tried to change that," Ginny said, almost to herself. "In the end, the rightful order reasserted itself."

She paused, thoughtful. "Can I have a mirror?"

"Are you sure you want to see yourself? It could be very jarring," the man said. Ginny looked at him, takeing notice for the first time. He had a kind face, with straight, short blond hair, and pale blue eyes, the exact same shade of blue as the midday sky in July. He was perhaps nine years younger than herself.

"Yes, I'm sure. I need to see my face for myself," Ginny said.

"Here you go, ma'am," the young healer said holding a mirror out to her. "You might want to try your left hand," he added gently when she reached for the mirror with her right hand.

She took the mirror, hesitating for a split second before bringing it up and looking into it. _Could always be worse_, thought the woman once thought by many to be the most beautiful in the magical world. She could hide the missing ear with the right hairdo, and she now had a glass eye in her right eye socket. It looked real enough and mimicked the motion of her one real eye fairly accurately, so that wasn't that bad. The major problem was the nose-or rather the lack thereof which gave her face a rather skull-like appearance.

"Maybe when you get out we could go get a drink or something?" the Healer said as he left to check in on other patients.

"Maybe," Ginny said, not sure if he was just taking pity on her or if he really meant it. She was betting on the former.

_Maybe he means it...maybe._

* * *

A/N: And so I end here. I know, it's a short chapter, but I didn't want to ramble on. I assume I'm gonna get razzed again for stopping right when it was getting to the 'good part,' but I can only write what I know, so unless you want a glimpse of what Ron was doing at that instant, I can't help you.

There is just the Grand Finale left, but it will probably be just as short as this, unfortunately. I am beginning work on a continuation titled (tentatively) "Harry Potter III: Seventh Son." That's Harry Potter III as in the son of Harry Potter Jr. I think I've posted the prologue for it by now, or will soon.

Soooo...

Questions? Comments? Plotholes? Just type them up in a review, and I'll get back to you when I damn well feel like it (Which will probably be soon).


	9. Grand Finale

Disclaimer: ...And all things must end.

A/N: I've had a blast writing this story, I hope you've enjoyed it, and will read the sequel "Harry Potter III: Seventh Son." And if you haven't enjoyed the story, then what possessed you to read it through to the end?

I've rewritten this chapter, but I'm not gonna spoil it for anyone by saying what I did.

**Grand Finale**

_Hope in the face of our human distress  
Helps us to understand the turbulence deep inside  
That takes hold of our lives  
Shame and distress over mental unrest  
Keeps us from saving those we love  
The grace within our hearts  
And the sorrow in our souls  
Deception of fame  
Vengeance of war  
Lives torn apart  
Losing oneself  
Spiraling down  
Feeling the walls closing in  
A journey to find  
The answers inside  
Our illusive mind_

_-Dream Theater "Losing Time / Grand Finale"_

13 November 2017

_**Harry Potter: Savior or Wife beater?**_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Recently yours truly paid a visit to the residence of Harry Potter and his wife to find out if recent rumors that Mrs. Hermione Weasley (nee Granger) had used a love potion on Mr. Potter back in 1998 were true. You'll remember that in 1995 this reporter was the first to uncover evidence that the then Miss Granger was using love potions on not only Mr. Potter, but also on one Viktor Krum, widely regarded as one of the best Seekers in the long and illustrious history of Quidditch. Ms. Granger apparently covered her tracks well, since investigations at the time were inconclusive. Fast-forward twenty-two years, and though there has yet to be any hard evidence uncovered, there are some suspicious circumstances._

_Consider this: Though their marriage seemed to be a happy one, it ended rather suddenly just over a year after the birth of their son and daughter, and less than six months after the divorce was finalized Mr. Potter had married his former girlfriend Ms. Ginevra Weasley. But I digress..._

_This reporter got only a brief glimpse of Mrs. Potter, but it was gruesome. She was missing her left ear and all the fingers from her right hand. Her right eye was obviously glass. The most noticeable injury, however, was that her nose had been cut off at the bone. When asked what had happened, all Mrs. Potter would say was, quote, "I deserved it for what I did to Harry." What did she do to Mr. Potter? More importantly, what has Mr. Potter done to her over the years that he could damage her like this and still she says that it was her fault, that she deserved it?_

_The Department of Magical Law Enforcement declined to comment when asked whether... Continued on 2A_

_For a report on the current rumors linking Mrs. Hermione Weasley to love potion usage, see 4A._

_For a reprinting of the story on Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger's breakup, see 10A_

_For a reprinting of the previous scandal involving Ms. Granger's use of love potions, see section B_

Hermione slammed the paper down. "That foul gutter slut!" she hissed under her breath.

"I know. Nothing we can do about it now, though. She registered as an Animagus during the short reign of Voldemort, so we can't use that. She even received a pardon for not registering earlier because of her unflattering biography of Dumbledore," Harry muttered bitterly.

He paused. "I know of one way to cheer you up," he whispered suggestively in her ear.

"Not now," she said, blushing at the attention the students were giving the staff table. "Maybe later, though."

"Mum! Dad! Could you at least tone it down when you're in public?" Jenna whined from across the Hall. Hermione gave Harry a passionate kiss just to spite her.

"Now you've gone and made me late to my first class," Harry muttered back sarcastically.

"But that's still thirty minutes away," Hermione responded, casually checking her watch.

"And I won't be able to stand for twenty five of those minutes now, because of you," Harry muttered back.

"Will you two love-birds knock it off?" Neville said from the other side of Hermione.

"Sorry about that," Harry chuckled.

"Just don't let it happen again."

* * *

3 February 2018

Hermione was in her office when a knock sounded on her door. Absentmindedly, she said, "Come in."

She finished reading the essay she was grading before looking up to find a wand pointed in her face. Her hand reflexively twitched for her own wand before she noticed it was a wand _handle_ in her face. "Go ahead, take it," a familiar voice said.

"What are you here for?" Hermione said resignedly as she took the proffered wand. She noticed that the redhead had her hair back and was wearing an eye patch. "Nice look by the way. I half expected you to start wearing a burnoose."

"I thought about it, but that would be hiding from the truth, which is what got me in this situation in the first place." She paused. "As for why I'm here, I came to apolo-"

"If you think apologizing for breaking up my marriage to Harry will help you get back into my good graces, you can forget about it," the older woman said coldly.

"Actually I came to apologize because shortly after...I mean shortly before...dammit, I can't think of a way to say this that won't get me hexed," muttered Ginny, before straightening. "Shortly after Harry and I were 'married,'" she did finger quotes as she said this, "I slipped you a love potion to make you warm up to Ron."

"So...what? You had an attack of conscience and thought that by making me fall for Ron everything would be alright? I'll admit he made me feel better, but sti-"

"Actually, he was starting to get suspicious. I figured you would distract him from his suspicions," she paused again, seemingly bracing herself, "Plus, I figured I'd throw him a bone since he did love you." Hermione resisted the urge to strangle the woman.

"So, for how long were you slipping me potions?" Hermione asked. _Talking is good. As long as I'm talking, I'm not trying to kill her._

"Just the once, I promise you. But I won't lie to you; I was fully prepared to do to you what I did to Harry. I'm so sorry," the redhead had tears streaming down her left cheek.

"Why are you telling me this?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

"Dale convinced me to. He says secrets are like cancer-they eat at you slowly until there's nothing left of what you were," Ginny said quietly.

"Who's Dale?" Hermione asked.

"He was the healer who took care of me after the duel," Ginny said, carefully scratching the scar tissue that was all that remained of her left ear. For the first time Hermione noticed a ring on her left hand-one she herself had never seen before.

"So who gave you the ring?" Hermione asked.

"Dale. We're getting married next month," Ginny said as she rose. "You and Harry are invited, but I'm not fooling myself into actually thinking you'll come."

"Sorry, but we won't be attending," Hermione said, handing Ginny her wand back. "Oh," Hermione said as the redhead reached for the door handle, "and thank you."

"What for?" Ginny asked, genuinely puzzled. "For ruining your life?"

"No you twit, for making the last fourteen years bearable for me, even if you never meant to."

"You don't really mean that," Ginny said sadly as she left the office. "You really, _really_, don't mean that."

"Oh, and I've got a message from Harry. He said, " the brown-haired woman's face contorted with concentration,"that if you set the record straight about the Rita Skeeter article about the three of us that was published back in November, he might, and I quote 'consider thinking about the possibility that maybe if the planets and stars aligned just right, he might ponder the possibility of wondering whether or not to consider forgiving' you."

"I'll think about it," Ginny said as she left.

* * *

10 February 2018

_**Boy-Who-Lived: Trusting Individual, or Complete Idiot?**_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Recently this reporter had a chance to talk with Ms. Ginevra Weasley. It seemed that back in November, she was still a little shell-shocked after what Mr. Potter had done to her. Well, now we know why. It seems that, as yours truly suspected all along, Ms. Weasley had been dosing Mr. Potter with Amortentia Minima for the past eighteen years-not that this should surprise anyone, given the depth of emotions Mr. Potter had expressed towards Ms. Granger at the time of their marriage._

_Amortentia Minima is widely considered to be one of the most difficult potions to brew, and also the most insidious love potion known to the wizarding world. Unlike other love potions, it does not cause immediate, overwhelming, obsession-rather it causes a gradual emotional detachment from a chosen individual that the brewer(s) does not want the imbiber to be attached to, while at the same time fostering a pseudo-emotional bond with an individual the brewer(s) wants the imbiber to fall for. It is most often used by parents trying to steer their children to 'suitable' mates, though sometimes it is used to break up existing relationships to lure the imbiber into a relationship with the brewer. Use of Amortentia Minima to break up and existing marriage is considered tantamount to using an Imperious curse for that purpose._

_Unlike use of an Unforgivable, however, those caught using Amortentia Minima to break up a marriage do have an alternative-the spouse of the one dosed has the option to challenge the doser to an honor duel. Often considered a merciful fate compared to Azkaban, this option is not often excercised-besides, the winner of the duel gets off scot free, regardless of whether or not the winner is the challenger or challenged. _

_Now, oddly enough, neither Ms Weasley nor Ms. Granger have been killed in and honor duel. Neither have charges been filed at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. One must wonder what is going on...Continued on page 5A_

"Well, at least the bitch came clean," Harry said.

"But why to Rita Skeeter of all people?" Hermione asked.

"Perhaps as a final bit of revenge," Harry suggested. He shrugged, "Or maybe she gave an interview to someone else, but after she left they gave everything to the-what was it you called her after last article?"

"Gutter slut I believe. It's the truth, by the way," Hermione said.

"What? The article?" Neville queried from her other side.

"No, not all of it. But what I meant was the gutter slut comment," Hermione corrected. "Between the time I captured her in the jar until she wrote the biography of Dumbledore, she scraped a living from working as a cheap whore," Hermione said.

Harry and Neville were staring at her. "What? I saw her on a street corner one night in muggle London while I was out with my parents. She was talking to a 'potential client' at the time-listing her prices."

Neville was surprised. "And you remember this so precisely because..."

"It sticks out as the biggest 'revenge is sweet' moments in my entire life," she said sheepishly.

"I love you," Harry moaned.

"I know," Hermione smirked back.

24 August 2018

In one week, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, Chosen one, and Murphy's whipping boy, would return to Hogwarts as the first two-time Defense Against the Dark Arts professor in over fifty years. Though nothing bad had happened to those that taught in nineteen years since the defeat of Voldemort, every one of them had decided to get while the getting was good.

_What am I _doing_ thinking about my _job_ on my _wedding day_?_

He was jarred from his thoughts by the sound of "Canon in D." She'd won the argument this time. His thoughts ended when he saw her. She was again a vision in white. _Or is that _off_-white?_ He couldn't really tell.

He looked over to his groomsmen. Standing next to him was his best man, Ron. The others were Jonas, George, Neville, and Carrie Jordan. _Okay, maybe 'grooms_men_' isn't the right word..._

Carrie had been Hermione's idea. She had, of course, escorted Jenna up the aisle. Hermione's maid of honor was again Luna Lovegood. The other bridesmaids were Fleur Delacour, Hannah Abbot and Michelle von Harkonen-a German-born witch who was a close friend of Hermione's from when she was still working for the Ministry.

Just like the first time, he had to be poked in the ribs when it came time to read his vows.

"I still haven't figured out what I did to deserve you, and now I have to figure out what I did to deserve you returning to me. Although I may have forgotten, I never did stop loving you. I promise never to leave you again," Harry said, nearly sobbing at the end.

Hermione, tears running down her face, took a second to compose herself before delivering her own vows. "Harry, my love, I would never leave you. When things get bad, I promise that you can count on me. I never stopped loving you; no matter how hard I tried. You are my one true love, my knight in shining armor. I still owe you more than I can repay, and still I can only give you my love and devotion."

The rest of the ceremony was a blur. Next thing Harry knew, Ron was making as ass of himself giving the traditional best man's toast. He was very obviously drunk. "How much has he had to drink?" Harry whispered to Hermione.

"Just half a glass of champagne," Hermione whispered back, fighting to hold back laughter.

"Such a lightweight," Harry muttered taking another swig of his rum and coke.

Then before Harry realized it, it was time for the first dance. "I know you told me to trust you, but I can't shake the feeling that you buggered up the song selection for this dance," Hermione was muttering from next to him as they approached the dance floor.

"Trust me, you'll like it," Harry reassured her.

The band struck up, and only then did Hermione recognize them. "How did you...?"

"I paid them. 'Bout a million pounds. Oh, and I let them choose the rest of the set list," Harry said as Dream Theater began playing the Tesla classic "Love Song."

"That was all it took?" Hermione asked, amazed. _This has _got_ to be the best gift anyone has ever gotten me. Imagine...my favorite band playing at my wedding._

"That and we now own Roadrunner Records," Harry added added casually.

_Love will find a way._

_Darlin', love is gonna find a way,_

_Find its way back to you._

_Love will find a way._

_So look around, open your eyes._

_Love is gonna find a way._

_Love is gonna, love is gonna find a way._

_Love will find a way._

_Love's gonna find a way back to you, yeah,_

_I know. I know. I know._

* * *

Over the next twenty years, Harry and Hermione had six more children, four boys and two girls. They continued to work at Hogwarts, and Hermione was eventually promoted to Headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Ron went on to marry Luna, and they had four children of their own.

Ginny never did marry Dale. Upon reading that she had used a love potion on Harry Potter, he dumped her and never spoke to her again. She gradually withdrew from the world at large until her disappearance in May 2059.

Though Jenna and Carrie were never able to get married, they stayed together for the rest of their lives. Jenna went on to be a professional seeker, playing for a U.K. Squad than won an unprecedented seven straight Quidditch World Cups, though she only participated in four of those seven victories.

Jonas did play a few seasons of professional Quidditch, and even participated in two Quidditch World Cups, becoming the first brother-sister combo to be on an International Quidditch team. He went on to be an Auror, and eventually Minister of Magic.

Molly Weasley was never brought up on charges, though her husband took her to visit their daughter every day until his untimely death in 2052, where upon George Weasley took over for him, and continued to take her to visit with his only sister once a day until she disappeared.

James Potter went on to live an average life, though he became estranged from his father upon completing his education in Hogwarts, when he moved to South Africa with his wife and was not heard from again in Magical Britain until December 2060, when he began the process of repairing his relationship with his father.

Albus Potter remained bitter through most of his life, which he lived estranged from both his parents after completing his education. He worked for the Department of Mysteries until his disappearance in 2056. To this day the Unpeakables refuse to comment on his disappearance.

Lily Potter stayed close to her father and went on to become a successful Quidditch player, though she never played on the International level. She died in late 2059 under mysterious circumstances.

To be continued...

A/N: I know, it sucks, but then again, you've no doubt noticed by now that this whole story pretty much sucks. But for some reason people liked it...I dunno. People keep asking for more, so I give them more.

As for Hugo and Rose, they grew up to be normal, well adjusted individuals.

So, though I dread the answers to these questions...

Questions? Comments? Plotholes? Just type them up in a review and I'll try to address your questions in a timely manner.


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